


Resistance Is Futile

by Kay_kat



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Aaaaall the nerdy references, Brotp, Ella Lopez & Lucifer Morningstar Bonding, Ella Lopez & Lucifer Morningstar Friendship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Multilingual lucifer, Part case fic, Probably Crack, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:54:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23362051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kay_kat/pseuds/Kay_kat
Summary: During the case of a murdered fellow nerd, Ella finds out that she and Lucifer may have more in common than she could ever have imagined. And when the Devil gifts Ella Comic-Con passes, he gets far more than he'd bargained for.For it seems whenever a certain energetic forensic scientist is involved, resistance is futile.
Relationships: Chloe Decker & Lucifer Morningstar, Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, Ella Lopez & Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 158
Kudos: 461





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NightsLux](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightsLux/gifts).



> Hey all! Hope everyone is staying safe and healthy! This fic was inspired by a conversation NightsLux and I had on Twitter back in November. It's all finished and it's about 23k long, split into 3 chapters. I will be posting new chapters every Friday/ Saturday (there's still a bit of editing/ beating to be done) I had a lot of fun writing it, so I hope you enjoy reading it!
> 
> Also big thank you to my betas Shazzam and NotOneLine <3

Chloe sits at her desk, the paperwork in front of her complete sans one signature at the bottom right corner. It’s the last piece in her pile, the last bit of bureaucracy that sits between her and the new, yet to be opened case file that sits in the corner of her desk.

Despite this, she doesn’t hurry to add the finishing flourish to her paperwork, ending this bout of tedium that her job so often requires. Instead, she pauses, tapping her pen against her lip as she looks up and scans the area around her with narrowed eyes.

It’s probably just a stupid theory, but it’s one she can’t help but test regardless.

Setting her pen down and pushing her chair back, she rises and takes a slow walk around the bullpen. She looks everywhere she can think of, the interrogation rooms, under the stairs, Ella’s lab, even behind the filing cabinets, but to no avail.

She eyes her surroundings one last time before sitting herself back down at her desk. Picking her pen up, she rolls it between her fingers as she distractedly surveys the area around her, then shakes her head, returning her attention to the yet-to-be-signed form in front of her.

It _was_ stupid. Of course Lucifer isn’t lurking around her just watching and waiting for her to finish her paperwork so he can pop up out of nowhere with that ridiculous Cheshire grin, and once again avoid ‘ _the boring part of the job’_ as he calls it. No. Definitely not. It must just be coincidence that he _happens_ to roll out of bed and get to the station in time for her to have finished all their paperwork almost every day.

Just a coincidence, she thinks as she shakes her head, pressing her pen to the paper and scrawling her name in curling cursive neatly on the line.

She drops her pen and leans back in her chair.

 _See?_ No sign of her wayward partner.

So maybe he doesn’t _intentionally_ avoid paperwork. Maybe she’s just overthinking his very thoroughly expressed distaste for this particular part of their job.

Sighing, she leans forward, grabbing the manila file that contains her latest case and sliding it towards herself. It’s not like he can just _magically_ appear whenever a new case comes their way, and anyway—

“Hello Detective!” The too familiar accented voice comes from behind her, making her jump out of her damn skin.

She spins in her chair to come face to face with her partner’s shit eating grin beaming down at her. “ _Lucifer!”_ Her heart still pounding hard from the shock, she frantically glances around the space. “Where the _hell_ did you come from? I swear… I just….”

He frowns a little, looking puzzled by her behaviour and shrugs. “Well I suppose you’re not _technically_ wrong there, I _did_ come from Hell. Just not this morning. I came from my penthouse, naturally.”

“But I—” Her words fail her as she gestures wildly at the precinct. He just _appeared_. She’d checked everywhere.

_Everywhere._

He raises one eyebrow, his lips parting slightly, worry creasing his features. “Is everything alright, Detective?”

She takes a breath, collecting herself, and purses her lips. He must’ve been lurking somewhere, and she’d missed him. Maybe she really should tie a bell around his neck…. “Hm,” she hums as she pulls herself to the present, jerkily nodding. “Fine. Everything is _fine._ I just— You know, it doesn’t matter.” She waves a dismissive hand and turns back to her desk. “We have a new case.”

Lucifer grins as he unceremoniously snatches the case file from her fingers. “Lovely.”

Later that day, Lucifer lounges in his chair with his Louboutin clad feet on her desk like he owns the place as he flicks through the various files on their main suspects. His jacket lays neatly hung on the back of his chair and his shirt sleeves are rolled up, exposing his lean forearms. No one can blame her if her eyes linger a little longer than might be strictly appropriate.

“Hey,” she says as she takes her own seat, setting down her now freshly filled coffee mug. “Got anything?”

Sighing, he closes the casefile and removes his feet from her desk, primly crossing one leg over the other as he leans back in his chair and bounces a little. “ _Nope.”_ He slaps the file down and rubs a hand over his face, fingers rasping over his deftly cultivated stubble. “These poor saps are duller than Kristen Stewart at a party.”

Chloe raises an eyebrow at that remark.

“The only thing they could kill is a good time. Mind you, they could’ve bored the chap to death, what with all the talk of _data entry_ and _computer code_. I found myself dozing into what may or may not have been a permanent sleep just listening to their dreary alibis.”

She sighs. “That’s enough, Lucifer.” So maybe their pool of suspects may seem a bit… _boring_ on the surface, but that doesn’t mean they should poke fun at them.

But her command falls on deaf ears as he keeps chattering away. Sometimes she thinks he just likes the sound of his own voice. “I mean, Dungeons and Dragons as an alibi, Detective! Come on! Can they get any more cliché?” Then he pauses, his eyes lighting up, and he leans in conspiratorially before continuing in a hushed voice. “Or maybe they _did_ do it, using… _magic!_ There was one that claimed to be a wizard, wasn’t there?”

“That was his D&D character,” she says as she rubs her temple in an attempt to stave off the inevitable headache that she feels niggling in the back of her head. “You are right though,” she admits, albeit reluctantly, “none of these guys have a motive or opportunity. Though they all have the same alibi for the time of death— their game of Dungeons and Dragons— with nothing to back it up except their word.” She shakes her head. “I just don’t see why anyone would want to kill this guy. He seems pretty… _unremarkable_.”

Lucifer sneers. “That’s one word for it.”

“Maybe Ella’s found something in the evidence, we should go check. Maybe it’ll give us another angle to play.”

The lab is quiet. Eerily so.

Usually when one enters Ella’s lab, one expects to be assaulted by a wave of cheesy tunes accompanied by questionable dance moves. But not today. Today all that greets them at the door is silence.

A single, dim electric lamp struggles to light the room, casting long shadows across the counters and illuminating the unnaturally still occupant. The usually perky forensic scientist sits at the desk, no ear buds, no computer, just her notepad in hand, quietly scribbling down notes as she occasionally glances into her microscope.

Chloe hesitantly steps a foot into the room as Lucifer quietly pushes the door shut with a click behind her. “Hey Ella,” she greets softly, not wanting to make her jump as she doesn’t seem to have noticed them enter.

“Miss Lopez,” Lucifer adds, wandering further into the room to lean against one of the side counters.

Ella quickly looks up from her microscope at the pair, eyes a little wide. She must not have heard them enter after all, or maybe she was just too engrossed in her work to notice. “Oh… hey guys. What’s up?” she greets them unenthusiastically. A word which Chloe would never, not in a million years, associate with Ella Lopez, literal living, breathing ball of pure excitable energy.

Something is wrong.

As Ella would say, her sister sense is tingling.

Chloe frowns and turns to throw a glance at Lucifer. He must also have picked up on the… _lack_ of energy radiating from their usually bouncy ball of sunshine, because he’s stood up from where he was previously leaning, lips parted, his face creased in worry. His dark brown eyes meet hers. She sees it then, the flame that dances in the dark depths, the desire that burns within him to ferociously protect his friend. To find out what’s wrong and _hurt_ whoever is to blame.

It’s kind of sweet in a way. His instinct to protect not only Chloe, but all of his friends. With Ella though, it’s a little bit different. A little bit more… _brotherly._

“Is, uh… is everything okay, Ella?”

Ella averts her gaze from the scrutiny, her ponytail bobbing as she nods in what is clearly an attempt to cover how _not okay_ she is. “I’m fine,” she shrugs dismissively, “it’s nothing, really.” She stands abruptly, causing her chair to scrape along the floor. “Anyway, did you guys need something?”

Chloe opens her mouth, wanting to pursue the matter further, but thinks better of it. Clearly Ella doesn’t want to talk about whatever is on her mind right now. “We, uh…,” she shakes her head, refocusing herself on the task at hand, “hit a wall in our case. Thought maybe you’d found something in the evidence that could give us a new angle to work.” She pauses and then adds, “You know, the _Dungeons and Dragons_ case.”

“Oh. Yeah, hold on just a sec.” She walks around the table and searches through a pile of folders, before pulling one out and quickly scanning over the contents. Without looking up, she continues, “I haven’t got much. Murder weapon hasn’t shown up yet, but best guess from the trauma and the gap in the collection….” She holds out a glossy photo of rows of what look like spaceship models on shelves. One space is empty. “The murder weapon was _The Enterprise.”_

An awkward silence falls over the lab as both Chloe and Lucifer wait for whatever _Star Trek_ related information is about to go completely over their heads in an excitable fit of nerdy passion. Only, it never comes. Ella places the folder back down and returns to her microscope, seemingly oblivious to the pair still stood staring at her as if she’s grown another head.

“Is that it?” Chloe asks, trying to coax more from her friend.

Ella looks up with a frown and a little shrug. “Yep. That’s all I’ve got.”

“Well colour me shocked, Miss Lopez,” Lucifer says, suddenly striding toward her and gesturing to the assorted sci-fi memorabilia that lays bag and tagged all over the far counter. “No ‘ _beam me up Scottie’_ or lecture on the precise model and era of _The Enterprise_ ? I expected this case would be your dream, but you seem… _sad._ ” He pauses a moment and she can see that there’s something sitting on his tongue, some uncertainty that brews within his mind. “Whatever has gotten into you?”

Chloe steps forward, placing her hand on Lucifer’s outstretched forearm, hoping to settle him a little. “He does have a point, Ella. You know if there’s something going on, you can talk to us, right?”

Ella sighs heavily, her gaze falling to the grey linoleum. “It’s… not important. You guys really don’t need to worry about it. Really.”

Chloe opens her mouth to say something but is quickly cut off, much to her surprise, by Lucifer.

“Miss Lopez, I assure you, if it’s important to you then it’s important to the Detective and I,” he says as he steps forward, placing his hand on Ella’s shoulder. Chloe would be lying if she said the scene didn’t melt her heart.

Ella’s face softens, her eyes glistening slightly as she looks up at him.

“He’s right you know,” Chloe chips in.

The pair waits patiently as the scientist falls into a long moment of contemplative silence. “Fine,” she says eventually, “but I warned you, it’s kinda silly. So, growing up in Detroit with four brothers was great, but we didn’t exactly have a lot of money, you know? There was always stuff I wanted to do, but never got to. One of those things was to go to Comic-Con. Not the small ones, like… _the_ Comic-Con. So, I figured when I moved out to California that I could finally go and, I mean, that was my plan, but I guess the odds just haven’t been in my favour—”

Lucifer holds his index finger up. “I understood that reference.”

Ella grins, already looking more like her usual self. “And _I_ understood _that_ reference.”

Chloe blinks blankly at the pair as they share a small laugh.

“Anyway,” Ella continues, “I’ve tried every year since I moved out here to get badges and last night, I did!”

“That’s great, Ella!” Chloe says, wondering how this story possibly has anything but a happy ending.

“Well, I should say, I _almost_ did,” she continues, deflating Chloe’s moment of happiness. “So, I’m sat there for hours, in the registration queue, watching the blue wheel go around and round and round— I had snacks and everything— and suddenly, like a miracle I got in! And then, before I could even reach the keyboard, _BAM!_ ” She pauses dramatically, eyes wide. “Power cut.”

“As soon as the power came back on, I tried to log back in, hoping that I still had a chance, but I guess it just wasn’t meant to be…. I’m just a little bummed out by it, I guess. I suppose there’s always next year though.”

Lucifer shakes his head, huffing and mumbling something under his breath. Chloe thinks she catches, _“That won’t do at all,”_ but she doesn’t have time to ask him what he means by that before he pulls his phone from his pocket and excuses himself from the room, claiming to have some business to take care of.

~

“Lucifer!” Chloe exclaims as he waltzes into the precinct the next day. “Where the _hell_ have you been?” He’d just disappeared on her, leaving her to continue trudging through the case alone.

“I told you,” he says, stopping by her desk, “I had some business to take care of.” He even has the audacity to smile.

She can feel heat rushing to her cheeks as she mentally compiles every possible reason why what he did was _not_ okay. He’s supposed to be her partner and yet he just comes and goes as he pleases, without a care about what she needs.

He’s _supposed_ to have her back.

“ _Lucifer_ ,” she starts through gritted teeth, “you—”

“So, what’ve we got?” he interrupts her, leaning over to peer at the open files on her desk, seemingly completely oblivious to her brewing fury.

“ _No.”_ She slams the file in front of her shut and spins in her chair to face him. “That is _not okay_ , Lucifer. You don’t get to just work on the case whenever you _feel_ like it.” The smile on his face fades. “ _You_ ”— she rises from her chair in a movement that sends the thing rolling backwards, even making Lucifer flinch a little— “are _supposed_ to be my partner. You’re _supposed_ to have my back.”

His expression slowly morphs into concern, and, as his lips part slightly and his dark eyes glisten, she might even say that she sees the tiniest flash of fear in his features. He’s afraid that he’s upset her. Maybe even afraid that she won’t want to work with him anymore. “Detective— _Chloe_ ,” he finally manages to get out, despite his state of shock.

She curses herself because the second her name crosses his lips, she finds herself starting to forgive him.

“I apologise for leaving during the case,” he says.

She feels herself deflate. So desperately does she want to be mad at him, but instead she finds herself saddened by the whole thing. She loves working with him, but what good is that if she can’t depend on him? “I don’t need you to be sorry, Lucifer,” she replies quietly, not really wanting to say the words but knowing she has to, “I need to be able to depend on you.”

He presses his lips together and lifts his chin slightly, his whole demeanour becoming very serious for his next words. “It won’t happen again. I give you my word Detective, and my word—”

“— is your bond, yeah I know the line,” she finishes for him. She knows it’s true. He takes his promises _very_ seriously. It makes her feel somewhat better, at least. “Thank you.”

Almost immediately, his face lights up with his trademark grin. “From now on you can consider me Mister Dependable.”

 _If only,_ she thinks, rolling her eyes as she takes her seat and he follows suit, neatly setting himself down beside her desk.

“So, what have you found?” he asks, once again peering over at the files on her desk as she opens them.

And she knows that she’s going to regret this. “Nothing,” she admits.

“Ah! Brilliant! So I haven’t missed anything then,” he says, beaming. “Right then”— he claps his hands together— “let’s get to work.”

She finds herself impressed with how seriously he seems to be taking the leg work, until about half a second later when he continues his thought.

“We’ll find a lead now that I’m here,” he smirks, waggling his eyebrows as he takes a folder and leans back in his chair, “we always do.”

“That is _not_ true,” she huffs as a rebuttal. “We find leads because we do the legwork, not because you’re some kind of…” she trails off, gesturing vaguely to his person, “ _lucky charm.”_

And as if the universe itself wants to prove her wrong, Ella chooses that exact moment to appear.

“Guys!” she exclaims as she rushes towards them waving a file in the air. “I think I’ve found a lead!”

She doesn’t even want to look at Lucifer right now.

“Told you,” he says with a triumphant little smile.

_Urgh._

She shakes the thought away and returns her attention to Ella, who opens the file and passes it to them. Lucifer grabs it first and holds it so that she can see. They both frown as they flick through the pages.

It contains what looks like emails between the victim and one of the suspects that they’d interviewed, Josh. He’d claimed to be the victim’s friend, stating that they’d never argued over anything, but these emails seem to tell a different story.

 _“Give it back or I’ll take it back, we found it together. You can’t do this,”_ Lucifer reads aloud, the line between his eyebrows deepening. He flicks through a few more pages before looking back to Ella. “These chaps were clearly arguing over something, the question is _what?”_

It’s as if he’s taken the question right out of her mouth. They do work well together, she has to admit that much, when he can be bothered to show up, that is.

By the look that crosses Ella’s face, Chloe would guess that she already has an answer to that question. It’s good to see the forensic scientist a bit more like her usually upbeat self, even if it is because of murder and mayhem. “Well” —she pauses a little dramatically, still beaming at the both of them— “ _this_ is where it gets interesting.”

“ _Ooh.”_ Lucifer gives Ella her a sly little smirk, clearly intrigued by the whole thing. “Do tell.”

Ella throws him a little smirk back as she often does. It’s pretty adorable how well they get on, now that she thinks about it. “So, I was going through the Vic’s computer, at first nothing jumped out at me, he just seemed like your average dude, you know?”

“If his company is anything to go by, I’d wager that he was rather subpar actually,” Lucifer quips.

“ _Lucifer_ ,” Chloe snaps, “have some respect.”

A puff of air escapes his lips. “Respect isn’t exactly my thing, Detective, you ought to have figured that out by now.”

She rolls her eyes. Maybe she should have learnt to take his antics with a bucket of salt by now as well.

“Aaaanyway,” Ella says, eyeing the pair, “I looked again, more thoroughly, and I found these emails along with a ton of images. I mean, I gotta hand it to him, the guy tried really hard to get rid of this stuff, but he was no match for my _awesome_ powers of computer file recovery.” She pauses, looking between them proudly. “Yep, I totally managed to recover and piece together some of the deleted files, and I mean they were _really_ far gone. Never would have been able to do it if….”

Chloe’s mind wanders a bit as she waits for the part where Ella gets to the point, but it doesn’t seem to be coming anytime soon. “So, what were the pictures of?” she says, finally deciding to prompt her.

“Well, I only managed to recover enough to make out a few words, but from what I can tell it was a scanned copy of the Star Trek pilot script. I don’t know what that means, but the guy wanted them gone _real_ bad.” She pauses, her eyes widening as if to emphasise her point. “There’s got to be something more to it, something that we’re missing. He wouldn’t just go to all that trouble to get rid of files that you can download from Google.”

Chloe shakes her head as she scans the words in the partially reconstructed picture. There’s not much information to go on, only the words “ _Star Trek”_ along with the episode number, title and a few lines of dialogue. But Ella is right, it seems suspicious that this guy would go to all that trouble to get rid of the seemingly unremarkable script. He has to have been hiding something, but _what?_

“Hang on a minute,” Lucifer says suddenly, pointing to the second line on the page, before looking back up at Ella with wide eyes, as if he’s just realised something of great importance.

Ella takes another look at the page and gasps. “ _Oh my God!_ ” She looks between Chloe and Lucifer with wild eyes. “How did I not see that?”

Chloe quickly scans the words again, looking for something obvious that she must have missed, but finds nothing. Surely if Lucifer found it, she could find it just as quickly... but she gives up, figuring it’s best just to get on with it. “Anyone gonna clue me in? It just looks like a normal script to me.”

“This isn’t the script for the _aired_ pilot, Detective,” Lucifer— surprisingly— explains.

Ella seems to freeze a moment, deep in thought, her eyebrows creasing before she turns to Lucifer and says, “ _Wait…_ you’ve watched Star Trek?”

Lucifer raises one eyebrow at her, as if the answer to her question is obvious. “Who hasn’t watched Star Trek?”

“Uh, me,” Chloe interjects. “Can we get back to the case please? What does this all mean, Ella?”

“If this guy came across a lost script, it could be worth”— she shakes her head— “ _thousands_ to a collector, maybe even more.”

“So you’re saying that if this other chap knew about the script, he may have wanted it for the money?” Lucifer asks.

“Money is always a good motive,” Chloe adds.

Lucifer throws his hands out to his sides. “What are we waiting for then? Let’s go talk to him!”

~

“Josh, this is the LAPD,” Chloe shouts through the door as she knocks for the third time, “we just want to ask you a few more questions.”

She waits patiently, but no answer comes. The drapes are mostly closed, but through the gap in them, she sees no signs of life inside.

“Guess he’s not home,” she says, turning to walk back to the car.

Lucifer follows half a step behind, Ella by his side. “Or he’s on the run,” he suggests.

It’s certainly a possibility, though it seems like a big leap to make. Apart from a partially reconstructed image of this so-called lost script, they’re not even sure that it exists yet, if that’s even what the victim was arguing about. And even if it was, the suspect has a pretty solid alibi for the time of death. Their theory is flimsy at best.

Chloe chews on her lip as she opens her car door, pausing a second as the others catch up to her. “Maybe we should check the vic’s apartment again. It’s a long shot, but maybe now that we know what we’re looking for, we can find something that will point us in the right direction.”

“Sounds like a good plan to me,” Ella agrees. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and find something we missed.”

“I’m sure we will. “Lucifer opens the passenger door and pauses, looking at Chloe with a grin before adding, “I am your _lucky charm_ after all.”

About twenty minutes later, they find themselves walking down the hallway of the victim’s apartment building. The place is reminiscent of something one might see in a horror movie, the effect only amplified by the lack of natural light and a single flickering bare bulb to illuminate the space. The décor, or lack thereof, looks like it hasn’t been updated since the late 80s. Gaudy, boldly patterned wallpaper lines the walls; stained, scratched and in some places barely even staying in place. Chloe doesn’t even want to think about trying to identify the dank smell that hangs in the air.

Beside her, Lucifer steps carefully, scrutinizing the state of the floor with a grimace plastered on his face. At one point he even stops to check the sole of his shiny _Louboutins_ , presumably performing some kind of risk assessment as he often does when it comes to his designer clothing.

Not that she can blame him in this place; she’s sure she just saw a needle on the floor back there. Certainly one of the… _less than savoury_ parts of the city. It makes her wonder why the victim lived here? Money troubles perhaps? His friend’s place didn’t look much better. It makes a money motive more likely, that’s for sure.

Hopefully they will find some answers here, that is if Ella and Lucifer can focus on the case for any length of time. It would seem that since Ella had found out about Lucifer’s apparent liking for _Star Trek_ , she has become curious about his other interests of that nature.

“Favourite Avenger?” Ella asks him, continuing a string of questioning that had started in the car on the way over.

Lucifer presses his lips together for a moment. “Well, if we’re talking strictly Avengers, it has to be Iron Man.” He adjusts his cufflink and brushes a hand over the arm of his jacket as they continue down the dingy little corridor. “No question about that.”

A little laugh escapes Ella’s lips. “Coulda guessed that one.”

“Oh?” Lucifer cocks an eyebrow.

Ella hums. “A Playboy billionaire that fights crime in his free time?” She smirks, nudging his elbow with hers. “Sounds pretty familiar to me.”

He frowns.

“I’m just saying,” Ella continues with a half shrug, “I see a lot of similarities between you two.”

“But you are aware that Iron Man is _fictional_ , whereas I am, in fact, very real,” Lucifer retorts, gesturing to himself.

“Well _yeah_ , but you also believe you’re the Devil and a lot of people don’t believe that the Devil is real,” she counters.

Lucifer stops just as they reach the bottom of the stairs to the next floor, his frown deepening. “I’m confused. Are you saying that I don’t exist or that Iron Man _does_ exist?” he asks incredulously, holding his hands up in the air as if to prove that he is actually stood in front of them. “Because last time I checked, I was very real.”

Chloe has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at the exchange.

“No, I just mean that—” Ella cuts herself off, shaking her head and waving a dismissive hand in the air. “It doesn’t matter.”

The trio continue up the stairs and reach the next landing in silence. The Vic’s apartment is at the end of this corridor and Chloe is hopeful that they can reach it without another lively debate about which _Star Wars_ trilogy is the best.

“So,” Ella speaks again, crushing Chloe’s hope in an instant, “who is your favourite _Marvel_ character then? If we’re not just talking about Avengers, I mean.”

Chloe only half listens as she continues up the corridor ahead of them. The door to the victim’s apartment sits ajar, setting her on edge. Her hand immediately goes to her gun, ready to draw if needs must.

“Easy,” Lucifer replies, seemingly oblivious to what Chloe has seen. “Loki.”

Ella hums. “Now, I wouldn’t have guessed that. I mean, sure, he’s an interesting character, but—”

“ _Guys,”_ Chloe half whispers, a sense of urgency in her voice that causes their conversation to immediately cease. She silently gestures for them all to halt at the apartment door. Now that they’ve stopped talking, she can hear voices coming from inside.

The trio stand, listening for a moment.

One of the voices can clearly be heard. _“We shouldn’t be here!”_

Chloe looks at Lucifer and tilts her head towards the apartment. He moves quickly, with practiced ease, to the side of the door and outstretches one hand, in place ready to open it on her mark. She unholsters her gun, her fingers tensing around the grip and, after checking over her shoulder that Ella is hanging back, nods.

Lucifer pushes the door open and she raises her gun, carefully entering the apartment. Her heart pounds hard in her chest, blood thrumming in her ears as she sees three figures huddled in the corner of the room.

“LAPD!” she shouts. “Show me your hands!”

All three men turn quickly, startled by her sudden appearance, and, at seeing her raised gun, immediately put their hands in the air.

Chloe frowns, lowering her weapon as she sees that the group is unarmed.

“Well, well, well,” Lucifer says, coming up beside her, “if it isn’t the _Dungeons and Dragons_ club.” He raises an eyebrow as he scans his surroundings. The place is trashed. Drawers have been emptied, their contents covering the floor. “Looking for something are we?” he purrs.

“I-I— We—” one of the men, James, stammers. His bespectacled eyes widen as Lucifer prowls towards the group with a predatory grin on his face.

“A script, perhaps?” he asks, eyeing the way the guy on the far right, Doug, turns red in the face. “Come on, might as well ‘fess up. We know what you found; we saw the emails. So, what happened? Your friend wanted all the money for himself, so you decided to _kill_ him? Is that it?”

Lucifer presses them, that slightly manic glint that he gets sometimes, shining in his eyes.

 _“No!”_ James cries out. “We—”

“Don’t say anything, James.” The third man, Josh, the one that Lucifer had called ‘ _the Wizard’,_ finally speaks up, looking a little less intimidated than the other two. He throws the other two men a serious look and opens his mouth, releasing a jumble of rough syllables that can’t possibly mean anything. “ _Wo’ bathlhvaD.”_

Only Lucifer laughs.

“Speaking _Klingon_ as well?” he scoffs in disbelief. “Just when I thought you couldn’t be anymore cliché. Well I’m afraid _the Empire_ isn’t going to save you this time, _Worf_.”

Because _of course_ he speaks _Klingon_ , Chloe thinks, her mind briefly wondering what other surprising talents her partner is hiding.

Lucifer homes in on Josh, his focus trained on the man; his movements subtle yet menacing. She’s seen this many times before, Lucifer’s carefully practiced skill of cracking people, his ability to draw out their secrets, or, as she’s affectionately called it in the past, _his mojo._ So she knows that all she has to do is sit back and watch the show. If the way Josh’s face pales is anything to go on, it shouldn’t be much longer now.

“So, tell me, _Joshy boy_ ,” Lucifer purrs, inching closer to the man’s face, never breaking his eye contact, “did you _desire_ money so _desperately_ that you _murdered_ your best friend over some script?”

Josh’s eyes glaze over, the same way it happens to everyone who falls under Lucifer’s spell. “I- I- I couldn’t let him,” he stammers, “he was going to destroy the script. He said that it was a disgrace to the show and that we couldn’t let people see it, but it would have been worth _thousands_! We a-argued over it! And then I just—”

“Bashed his head in with a model Enterprise?” Lucifer finishes for him.

“It was an _accident!”_ Josh cries out, looking to his friends for help. “Tell them!”

The other two exchange a glance. “It was all Josh,” Doug says, not able to keep the shake out of his voice. “We didn’t have anything to do with it!”

Lucifer turns to her with a proud little grin on his face. “Told you it was the wizard.”

Chloe pauses, thinking about the whole thing for a second. If Josh is the only killer, then why do they all have the same alibi? “But you all said that you were playing _Dungeons and Dragons_ at the time of the murder,” Chloe questions.

The group exchanges apprehensive looks.

“We were all there,” Josh interrupts, “We all had a hand in it, they helped me cover it up, and we came up with the _Dungeons and Dragons_ story to cover ourselves.”

Lucifer claps his hands together, smiling triumphantly. “ _Three murderers!_ That’s got to be some sort of record, Detective.”

“You’re all under arrest,” she says, grabbing her phone to call for support.

“But you’ll go easy on me, right?” Josh cries as she slaps handcuffs on his wrists. “I told you everything!”

She hums. “Probably not, I think we’ve got everything we need.” She pauses, looking at the other two. “That is unless anyone else has anything they’d like to share?”

“Doug hit him too!” James cries. “It wasn’t just Josh!”

“Well so did you!” Doug cries in response.

From then onwards the three just descend into senseless bickering, each more than happy to reveal the details of their ‘ _friends’_ contributions to the crime.

“Not such a mighty Empire now, are we?” Lucifer laughs.

“I have a question,” Ella interrupts. “What happened to the script?”

The trio of murderous nerds cease their bickering to look at her. “We don’t know,” Josh says. “We didn’t find it.”

Ella hums, but doesn’t say anything further.

“Is that all?” Chloe asks. “Because if you don’t mind, I need to read them their rights.”

“Sure, Chlo, go ahead,” she nods, gesturing to the apartment. “I’m just gonna take a look around.”

No one can blame Chloe if she ‘overhears’ the conversation that unfolds between Ella and Lucifer after that. The apartment is small, after all.

“Dude, you speak _Klingon?”_

Lucifer huffs. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I’m the Devil, I speak _everything_. That power doesn’t discriminate against _so-called_ _fictional_ languages.”

“Right,” she hears Ella laugh.

~

Chloe’s just wrapping up her paperwork from the case when she sees Lucifer heading towards the elevator. She’s honestly surprised that he hasn’t left already, lest she rope him into doing _boring_ paperwork.

She’s glad that she spotted him on his way out though. The argument they’d had earlier has left her feeling a tad unsettled all day. So, she hops up from her seat and jogs across the bullpen.

“Lucifer!” she calls out as the elevator door opens in front of him. “Wait up!”

He spins on his heel to face her. His eyebrows creep towards his hairline as he sees her coming towards him, almost as if he’s surprised that she wants to talk to him. “Detective!” he greets her with an uneasy smile.

For some reason though, she gets the feeling that he’s nervous about something. She shakes the thought. It’s probably nothing.

“What can I, uh, do for you?” he asks as she gently grabs his forearm and guides him to the side of the elevator, out of the way. She can’t help but notice how he fidgets with the ring on his finger.

“You can relax,” she says with a little smile, “I’ve finished up all the paperwork.”

He nods absently. “ _Oh.”_ His gaze keeps flitting somewhere behind her like he’s watching for something.

“I just wanted to say, about earlier—”

“I apologise again for my behaviour, Detective,” he says quickly, rushed almost. Like he can’t wait to get out of here. “It won’t happen again. You have my word.”

He takes a small, skittish step backwards, his eyes still scanning the bullpen.

Something is going on, that’s for sure. “That’s not what I was going to say,” she explains. She glances over her shoulder but can’t see what he’s looking for. “Is something going on with you? Because you know you can talk to me, right?”

His eyes meet hers and for the first time since they’d started the conversation, he seems to actually be focused. “I’m fine, I just…” he trails off, looking over her shoulder again, and whatever he sees must satisfy him, because he seems to relax. “It doesn’t matter,” he waves his hand in the air between them. “What were you going to say?”

Does he feel like he can’t confide in her? Sadness blooms inside her at the thought. “I um….” She clears her throat before continuing. “I just wanted to apologise for how I reacted earlier. You were invaluable to this case and we wouldn’t have been able to solve it without you. I should know by now that you don’t always follow the rules, but you do care about our work, and I know that you always have my back.” She pauses. A little smile pulls at his lips and his eyes shine in disbelief. “I’m sorry.”

His lips part slightly and for a long moment he doesn’t say anything. “I…” he says finally, “thank you, Detective. Truly.”

“That’s okay.” She smiles and is rewarded with one back. “So…” she chews on her lip a little, “did you have plans for tonight, or— I mean, it seems like you were in a rush to get out of here.”

He raises one eyebrow in question, his grin only growing wider. “I had nothing in particular planned. Why do you ask?”

She shrugs. “Just, Dan’s got Trixie. I wondered if maybe you wanted to get something to eat. Or something.” The suggestive looked that washes over his face immediately makes her regret asking. “But it’s okay if you’re busy, or you’d rather be somewhere else.” She shrugs again, awkwardly this time.

“Sounds delightful,” he says, grinning like the Cheshire cat as he claps his hands together.

And then something strange happens. His face drops. Panic flickers across his features.

For a second it looks like he might run away, and she doesn’t understand why until her ears are met with a high-pitched squeal of “ _Lucifer!”_ and Ella barrels into his side with enough force that he almost topples over. She clings on to him, squeezing him tightly— to an uncomfortable degree, if the look on his face is anything to go by.

The scene in front of her is both baffling and completely adorable.

Ella excitedly says, “ _Thankyouthankyouthankyou,”_ over and over again, the noise muffled slightly by his jacket. He just stands stock still with a look of pure terror on his face.

Lucifer makes eye contact with Chloe and very clearly mouths the words, “ _Help me.”_ She can’t hold back her laughter at that. And maybe she takes too much joy in the look of dread that appears on his face when she holds her hands up in front of her, shaking her head to tell him he’s on his own. From his reaction, anyone would think he was going to die there, trapped in the arms of the forensic scientist, like an insect caught in a Venus fly trap.

He sighs and raises his hands to encompass Ella, pats her back a couple of times and then attempts to prise her from himself.

Ella looks up at him and Chloe is shocked to see that her eyes are shining with tears that escape and slip down her cheeks. “ _Thank you_! Really, Lucifer, this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

Chloe wants to ask what is happening but doesn’t want to spoil the moment, so she just hangs back, observing the interaction.

“Well, I—” Lucifer clears his throat, stepping backwards, presumably to re-establish his personal space. “It was nothing really.”

Ella steps forward and playfully slaps his arm. “Don’t be like that! It’s not nothing!”

He laughs nervously and brushes his hand over his jacket sleeve, clearing away what can only be imaginary lint. “How do you know that it was me?”

Ella raises an eyebrow at that. “Are you kidding? Well for starters the note said ‘ _Miss Lopez’._ Literally no one calls me that except you.”

“Right,” he replies, looking more than a little bit embarrassed.

Deciding that she can’t stand it any longer, Chloe finally asks, “What is happening exactly?”

Ella turns to her, her face lit up with the biggest smile Chloe has ever seen. “Lucifer got me Comic-con passes!”

Chloe finds herself taken aback by the statement. It’s so incredibly… _sweet_ of him to do that for Ella. In fact, she finds herself at a loss for words, looking between Lucifer and Ella with a smile on her face that won’t go away. “That’s…” she starts, “that’s _great,_ Ella!” She looks at Lucifer, who averts his gaze, almost as if he’s embarrassed by what he’s done. “And so generous of you, Lucifer!”

He waves his hand in the air dismissively. “It was nothing really. Just called in a favour.” Forcing a smile, he then adds, “ _No biggie.”_

“ _Nu-uh!”_ Ella exclaims, whirling on him in a fit of excitable energy. “ _Big biggie!_ Seriously! This is like _my dream_ and I can’t even— I mean I’m just— I can _never_ make this up to you!”

“Oh, there’s no need,” Lucifer replies.

Ella frowns. “But don’t you usually want a favour in return?”

Lucifer shrugs. “Well, perhaps you can owe me one, or— You know actually, I’m feeling magnanimous, consider this one on the house, Miss Lopez.”

“Really?” Ella frowns, eyes narrowing as she leans forward, pretending to scrutinize Lucifer. “Who are you and what have you done with Lucifer Morningstar?”

Lucifer’s mouth opens, and closes. He looks back to Chloe for help, but she just laughs.

“I’ve got it!” she shouts suddenly, causing Lucifer to flinch. “You should come with me!”

Confusion saturates his features. “I… I’m not sure I understand.”

Ella steps forward in her excitement, once again invading Lucifer’s personal space, much to his obvious discomfort. “You should come with me! You’ll love it! And that can be my way of making it up to you!”

Lucifer looks uneasy. “I’m not sure it’s really my _thing_ , and besides wouldn’t you rather take a _friend?”_

“ _Uh,_ first off, you _speak Klingon_ so it’s totally your thing,” she pauses, raising an eyebrow at him. She has a point. Lucifer is more into all this stuff than Chloe would ever have guessed it seems. “Second,” Ella continues, “you _are_ my friend.”

She smiles sweetly as she stares up at Lucifer, who seems to be the one who is at a loss for words now. A rare sight indeed.

“ _Please?”_ Ella adds. “It’ll be _so_ much fun!”

He doesn’t say anything for a long while, seemingly mulling over the idea. Ella playfully nudges him with her elbow and says, “ _Resistance is futile_ ,” with a big grin, whatever that means….

Finally, Lucifer sighs. “ _Fine_ ,” he concedes. “I’ll come, if that’s what you desire.”

Ella just about explodes with excitement as she jumps up and down on the spot. Lucifer cringes at the noise. Chloe just laughs at the whole thing.

~

Later that evening, after what had been a surprisingly pleasant meal at a little Italian place Lucifer had suggested, they find themselves at Chloe’s apartment.

“That was a good thing you did,” Chloe says as she hands him a glass of wine and sets herself down on the couch beside him.

He quirks an eyebrow at her before swirling the glass and raising it to his lips. He pauses, closing his eyes and takes a long inhale. Whatever aroma meets his nostrils must satisfy him as a pleased smile tugs at his lips before he finally takes a sip. A little delighted hum resonates from him as he does. “Exquisite choice, darling.” He leans over, setting his glass down on the coffee table. “I wasn’t aware that you had such refined taste.”

“I don’t,” she says with a smirk. Truthfully, she’s not picky when it comes to wine, the store brand stuff being her usual go to for a Saturday night in front of the TV. “You bought me this.”

The bottle had been sat in her cupboard for a couple of months now. Knowing Lucifer, it’d probably cost more than a week’s wages. She could have looked it up, but honestly, she doesn’t want to know. It’s not so easy to enjoy a bottle of wine when all you can do is think about how that money could be better spent.

And she wouldn’t have even opened it tonight, if not for the fact that the last time she’d offered Lucifer a glass of her usual _‘swill’_ — as he had so affectionately called it— he said it tasted like it came out of a box.

“Ah,” he pauses, a little smirk forming on his own face, “well, that makes more sense.”

She laughs and playfully slaps his forearm, only just managing not to spill her drink. He just sits there with a bemused little grin on his stupid face. His stupidly _handsome_ face. That thought sits in her head as she stares at him and his perfect hair, those soulful brown eyes that seem to twinkle in the light, those kissable lips….

Okay, maybe she’s had one too many glasses of wine tonight.

But then his eyes meet hers, and for a moment the world seems to stand still.

Smiling gently, she reaches out, her hand settling on top of his. “I’m serious, Lucifer. What you did for Ella, it’s really great.” She pauses, watching as his smile fades and his gaze falls to their hands. “You’re a _good_ friend.”

“I…” he trails off, clearing his throat and pulling his hand away from hers to retrieve his wine. “Thank you. Truthfully…” he takes a breath, his gaze falling once again, fixating on the rich red liquid that occupies his glass, “… I can’t explain why, but it breaks my heart to see Miss Lopez so upset. I didn’t expect her to want _me_ to go with her though.”

Chloe’s heart swells with love for the man in front of her. She can’t believe that she ever thought he didn’t care about anyone. “So, you are going?”

“I’m sure it’s not really my thing, but I did give her my word, so of course I am.”

“I think you’ll enjoy it more than you expect. Ella does have a point, I mean, I never took you for the type, but if you’re into that sort of thing, then—”

He narrows his eyes. “What ‘ _type’_?” he asks slowly.

“You know…” she waves her free hand in the air, gesturing vaguely to his person, “you just don’t look like a…” she grimaces slightly as the word sits on her tongue, “ _Trekkie.”_

An affronted look washes over his face, and he presses one hand to his chest as if offended. “I _am not_ a ‘ _Trekkie’!”_ he huffs, dramatic as always.

She can’t keep the scepticism from her face. “Well, you _do_ speak Klingon….”

“I speak _everything!”_ he retorts.

 _Right._ “Anyway… I think you’ll have a good time. Ella’s certainly excited about it all.”

Lucifer hums, pulling his phone out of his pocket and holding the screen up to her. The device buzzes every second or so with new messages from none other than their favourite forensic scientist. “Clearly,” he deadpans.

She smirks. Whatever happens, she’s sure she’ll get a laugh or two out of it at Lucifer’s expense.

He quickly looks at the jumble of messages that assault his phone. “Hang on,” he says, as he scans the words, “what’s this about a costume?” He looks up from the screen to give her a pointed look.

“I think most people wear costumes to these things,” she replies easily. She’s never attended a convention herself, but she had once worked a case that had involved going undercover in costume. “I imagine Ella will want to.”

“I _am not_ wearing a _bloody costume,”_ he exclaims, looking back at the screen with a mixture of disgust and dread on his face.

Chloe can’t help but snigger a little. “You do know this is _Ella_ we’re talking about. She will bug you about it, and you _kinda_ can’t say no to her.” She pauses, recalling a funny story Ella had once told her. “I mean, didn’t she make you attend a _church service_ once?”

Lucifer holds his index finger up to her. “That was a _favour_ .” He looks back down at the screen, which keeps flashing with new messages. A grimace settles on his face. “But you are right, it would seem that resistance is indeed _futile_.”

She takes another sip of her wine, savouring the moment because she can already tell that she is going to _enjoy_ this. **  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer and Ella's shenanigans continue as they embark on a road trip to Comic-Con (Road trip games are assured).

The night is young. Partygoers flow with the music around him, the crowd pulsating with the energy of youth and the buzz of fine alcohol. People purr his name as they pass where he leans at the bar, teasing him with touches as they go. Each one is an open invitation and he knows it, but tonight he isn’t in the mood.

Recently it seems to be that way far more frequently.

It’s difficult to enjoy nights of debauchery when the heart wants something else.

So, most of the nights he spends at Lux now, he simply plays his set, shows his face around the club and then retires to his penthouse.

Tonight though, a voice, different from the rest, catches his attention.

_“Lucifer!”_ He hears the familiar cry over the thrum of music but doesn’t see its origin. That is until the crowd parts and Miss Lopez emerges, dressed to impress in a glitzy get up. “Hey!”

He braces for impact as she inevitably engulfs him in her customary greeting hug. “Miss Lopez!” He greets her with an awkward smile whilst carefully extricating himself from her grasp. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Has she come here just to see him? For some reason he can’t fathom, that makes him feel… _good._

She hops up onto the stool beside him. “I was just out with some friends and I thought I’d stop by on my way home.” A slight slur to her words backs up her story. Her movements seem a little less… _inhibited_ , but it’s often hard to gauge with Miss Lopez’s bouncy nature. “I’m friends with the owner,” she continues, grinning, “so you know, _free drinks_.” She laughs a little too loudly as she winks at him and nudges his arm.

He chuckles half-heartedly. Of course, she hadn’t come here to see _him_. Why would she? She came for the free drinks. “Well,” he says, trying to maintain his smile despite the horrible feeling that seems to have suddenly set up residence in his chest, “by all means, help yourself.” He gestures the bartender over. “See that Miss Lopez gets whatever she wants, on the house, of course.” Turning back to her, he adjusts his cufflinks, not because he needs to, but because he can’t find it in himself to look at her directly. “If that’s all, I’ll leave you to enjoy your evening.”

When he makes to move past her though, she catches his arm. “Luce! I’m _joking!_ ”

He blinks blankly at her for a moment.

“I came to see _you!”_

_Oh._

He finds himself smiling as she tugs on his arm, guiding him to take the stool beside her. “I _mean_ ,” she continues with a little half shrug, “the free drinks are really just a bonus at this point.”

So, she did come here to see him. He can’t understand why, but it makes him happy, nonetheless.

“So,” she continues, “what are you doing over here on your own on a Saturday night? I thought you’d be partying, or you know… with _Chloe.”_

He frowns. “Why would I be with the Detective?”

The bartender slides a fresh glass of scotch towards him, and a mojito to Miss Lopez.

She sips her drink, eyeing him over the rim of her cocktail glass. “You two have just been spending a lot of time together _outside_ of work recently.” She shrugs nonchalantly, twirling the straw in her drink, playing with the mint leaves. “Just an observation.”

Lucifer hums sceptically. “ _And?”_

“I’m just saying, if something _is_ going on between you two, you can tell me. I won’t tell anyone.”

He scoffs. “Nothing is _‘going on’_ between us. We’re partners. We spend time together sometimes. That’s it.” And if his tone has become slightly defensive, it’s only because he wishes to rectify the truth and not have falsehoods spread. No other reason at all….

“And you _loooove_ each other,” she stretches out the word with a lopsided, open-mouthed smile on her face.

Definitely not that reason. He opens his mouth to deny it but before the words form, she adds, “And don’t even try to deny it. Anyone with eyes can see that it’s true.”

“Look,” he says, raising his palm to her, “it’s _complicated_ , alright?” Because it is, isn’t it?

She makes a sceptical face at him. “ _Is it_ though? Because it seems to me like you’re both just denying your feelings for one another and that… well, that’s pretty simple if you ask me.”

He huffs, shaking his head. No one is denying any _feelings_. In fact, he thinks he’s been pretty upfront about his from the start. And besides, he shouldn’t have to justify _not_ having a relationship with the Detective to anyone. If anything, he should be awarded for it! The amount of self-restraint he’s shown over the years…. He shakes the thought. This isn’t something he wants to get into right now. “If this is all you’ve come to talk to me about, then I’m afraid you’re out of luck. I’ve nothing more to say on the matter.”

“But—” she starts to protest but he cuts her off.

“No more,” he says, giving her a serious look.

She sighs overdramatically. “ _Fine.”_ Taking another sip of her drink and waving her hand loosely in the air, she adds, “We can talk about something else.”

Lifting his tumbler to his lips, he takes a sip of his own drink, savouring the rich flavours as they wash over his tongue, and nods.

“So…” she trails off, leaning both her elbows on the bar a little too heavily as she plays with the straw in her drink once again. The way she stoops over, lazily batting at the straw makes Lucifer think she might be a little more drunk than he’d initially thought. “You watch a lot of tv and stuff, huh?” She glances around at the club. “I didn’t really think that’d be how you spent your free time.”

“Well,” he follows her gaze, glancing over his shoulder at the club around him, and then looks back at her, “contrary to popular belief, the party does stop from time to time.” He manages to smile at her but knows it’s probably a weak effort. “And, more often than not, I find sleep to be… _elusive_.”

His smile turns into a grimace as he recalls the many hours he lay awake at night with nothing but his memories for company. And even when he manages to sleep, they often follow him, infecting his dreams, twisting them into dark tales that tear him from his slumber. He’s certainly no stranger to waking at all hours, drenched in sweat, barely able to usher the horrid images from his mind.

Sitting in his penthouse, alone in the dead of night. The eerie silence that lingers, slowly suffocating him.

Even with all his comforts surrounding him, some things never change. There will always be reminders of that which he wishes to forget.

Her hand settles on his sleeve, pulling him from his dark daydream so suddenly that he flinches a little. She looks at him, her lips slightly parted, eyes shining with concern. “Are you okay?”

He knows that he will never be free of his plight, that it will always be with him. All the therapy in the world can’t fix the scars that mar his soul; it helps, but they will never be gone for good.

But he’s found that sometimes he can immerse himself in another world and forget about his own, even if it is just for a short while.

For a moment, he can forget and that… that is a blessing.

“I—” He swallows hard, desperate to maintain his composure. “It just… it helps me not to think about… certain things sometimes.”

The concern on her face doesn’t fade, but she smiles softly. “I get it.” She gently squeezes his forearm. “Everyone needs to escape once in a while.”

For the first time in a long time, he feels… _seen_. Understood.

“I mean, when I’m feeling down, I just grab a pint of _Ben & Jerry’s _and binge watch _Buffy_ until I fall asleep on the couch.” She shrugs, a cheeky little smile creeping across her lips.

Lucifer raises an eyebrow at her. “I watched all twelve seasons of _Bones_ without sleeping.” Her eyes widen. “Not that it’s a competition,” he adds with a little smirk.

She looks at him for a long moment, seemingly speechless. “ _Dude!_ That’s a little extreme, but I admire your dedication.”

“Well,” he crosses his arms, leaning back in his seat as he finds himself more at ease, “I’ve never been one to do things by half.”

She looks thoughtful for a moment, and then her brow furrows. “Wait, that’s like…” she pauses, counting something on her fingers (yep, definitely more drunk than she seems) and then her face drops, leaving her staring at him in awe, “ _eight_ days without breaks. How did you even stay awake that long?”

Leaning forwards, he mirrors Miss Lopez, resting his elbows on the bar in front of him. He clears his throat, looking down into his glass as he swirls its contents, remembering those weeks and all the betrayal that had come with them. “Energy drinks,” he says, before looking back up at her, “among other _helpful_ substances, and a strong desire to defy my Father.”

“Ah.” She sips her drink. “Strong motivator, huh?”

“Indeed,” he drawls, taking another long pull of his drink.

Ella does the same, draining her drink until it’s a little less than half empty. “Heeey,” she says, her words slurring more noticeably now, “we should _totally_ marathon Lord of the Rings sometime.” She takes a long, dramatic pause in which she turns to look at him, a wave of excitement washing over her features. “ _Extended editions!”_ she suddenly exclaims. “We could totally do it!” Staring at him with almost impossibly wide eyes that twinkle with that invigorating enthusiasm that most adults have lost long ago, she adds, “ _And The Hobbit!_ That would be _totally freaking awesome!”_

He chuckles at her eagerness. “Perhaps,” he replies, “once we’ve tackled this Comic-con nonsense.” Honestly, the idea of spending more time with the overly passionate forensic scientist doesn’t fill him with as much dread as it once might have. He actually finds the prospect quite… _exciting._ “I think it could be… _enjoyable.”_

“Yes!” Her gaze seems to wander a moment, and as she stares blankly at some point beyond the bar, she says, “You’re so cool, Luce. Like, you’re just…” she trails off, turning to him, “You’re such a good friend.” She smiles, and he finds himself smiling back. “You know, after talking to you the other day, I realised we have more in common than I thought. There _is_ something I’ve been wondering though.”

He hums, curious as to what she might say next.

“You told me that Loki is your favourite Marvel character.” She pauses, looking at him with those big brown eyes. “Why do you like him?”

Lucifer finds himself caught off guard by the question. It’s not something he’s ever put much thought into. “I suppose…” he trails off, thinking back to the movies, “I just _do_.” He shrugs a little, taking another sip of his drink.

The club still buzzes with energy around them, but now no one bothers him, obviously seeing that he’s not interested tonight.

“Awr, come on, man!” She playfully pushes his shoulder, looking at him with an open-mouthed, expectant smile. “You can do better than that. Dig deeper!”

He sighs. “Fine.” Taking a breath, he composes his thoughts. “I suppose I just… _get it_.” He pauses a moment. Ella waits with bated breath for him to continue. “You know, growing up in the shadow of an older sibling. When I was young, I think I just wanted my Father to be proud of me, but he never was.”

His gaze drifts as his mind does too, back to the days that seem so long ago now. He finds himself transfixed on his reflection in the mirror behind the bar. Nothing has really changed in his appearance since the beginning of time; he styles his hair differently now, but apart from that, he looks the same. Only he isn’t. He’s so much older than he was then. And the innocence of youth he once had is long gone. He knows better now.

“Dad never believed in me.” He huffs, an unhappy sound that tumbles from his lips haphazardly. “ _Hell,_ He never even noticed me until I rebelled against Him.”

Beside him, Ella sits deathly still. He doesn’t look at her, but he can hear that her breathing has become slightly more uneven than it was seconds before.

“And then He kicked me out. My family followed suit and just…” the word sits heavy in his throat for a moment before he manages to force it past his lips, “ _abandoned_ me.” He takes a ragged breath, his eyes falling from his reflection to his hands. “I made one mistake, and I’m vilified for eternity because of it. Even when I try to do good, it makes no difference.”

Somehow it feels both freeing and damning to say these words aloud. His throat constricts further with each new sentence, but his soul feels lighter somehow because of it.

He turns back to Ella. Tears slip free of her eyes, smearing her mascara.

“So, in a way I think we’re similar, Loki and me. I will always be an _outcast_ , Miss Lopez. Nothing I do will ever change that.”

She shakes her head. Words seem to be out of her reach as she presses her trembling lips together. Her eyes glisten with tears, the tracks they leave on her cheeks shining in the low lighting of the club. “No,” she manages, so quietly that he almost doesn’t hear her over the music. 

His heart pounds hard against his sternum as they sit there, silence hanging heavy in the air between them, despite the noise that surrounds them.

And then, as if she can hardly contain herself for one second longer, she lunges forwards, propelling herself from her seat. Her arms wrap around him as she buries her face in his jacket.

“No, you’re not,” she says, her shaking voice muffled by his jacket. “You’re not.”

He finds his arms come up to encompass her small body, holding her tighter against him. And for the first time, he doesn’t want to let go.

They sit there, like that for… a _minute?_ _Longer?_ He doesn’t know, but it doesn’t really matter. Eventually, when it’s clear that she isn’t going to end it, he pulls away, clearing his throat as he trains his attention on smoothing out his suit jacket. “That’s enough of that, Miss Lopez,” he manages to say, attempting to sound jovial, but failing and cursing himself for the wobble in his voice.

“Right,” Ella chuckles, “still a squirmer.”

He grabs his glass, lifting it and tilting it towards her with a bob of his head. She’s not wrong there. Pressing his lips to the glass, he tips his head back and drains it, savouring the sweet burn of the liquor in his mouth as he sets the empty tumbler back down in front of him.

Beside him, Ella still stares at him, eyes wide with a ridiculous grin on her face.

_“What?_ Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, frowning.

“You should go as _Loki_ ,” she says as if it’s the single most important realisation of her entire life. “To Comic-Con, I mean.”

He scoffs, waving a dismissive hand towards her. It’s a bloody ridiculous idea. He’s certainly not going to be _dressing up_ like some human spawn on Halloween. “Absolutely not,” he says, as firmly as he can manage (that seems to be an issue for him when he’s talking to this particular human). He even keeps his gaze fixed on his own reflection, knowing that one look into those pleading eyes of hers will have him agreeing to almost anything.

“ _Awr!_ Come on Luce!” she whines, pulling on his arm in an effort to get him to look at her. “You _have_ to cosplay! And you’d make a _perfect_ Loki!”

“No,” he repeats through gritted teeth, trying his best not to just give into it. For some reason, it’s more difficult a task than he thought it would be.

“ _Pleeeeeeeaaaasssee?”_ she begs him, the pleading not unlike that of the Detective’s offspring. The tugging on his arm is becoming increasingly harder to ignore, but he persists with his stand. “But you’ve even got the _accent!_ And,” she exclaims, her excitement levels rising further, somehow, “ _I_ could go as _Valkyrie_! We would look _SO AWESOME!”_

He flinches as she shouts the last words. It attracts a few glances from the bartenders and his patrons, but they don’t pay attention for long, returning to whatever they were doing before.

The whole idea seems to make her so happy. Granted, there isn’t much that _doesn’t_ make Miss Lopez happy, but still, the thought of doing something that would take that away from her is… _unsettling._

Not quite conceding just yet, he finally turns to her. “Why can’t I just go as myself?”

She raises one eyebrow at him. “Are you a comic book character?” she asks, deadpanning.

He shrugs. “Well, not in _this_ universe, no, but—”

“There you go then,” she answers. For a long moment he studies her expression, watching as the smile on her face fades ever so slightly, the joy slowly draining from her features only to be replaced by disappointment. He can tell she’s trying to hide it from him but he can still see it there, lurking beneath the surface. Disappointing her is the last thing he wants to do, and knowing that he’s already on a path to doing so makes his throat constrict uncomfortably. “If you don’t want to, that’s okay. I won’t force you.” She pauses, her gaze drifting towards her feet. “I just thought it’d be fun and, you know… I won’t feel right being in costume if you’re not as well.”

He looses a hefty sigh, already feeling like the battle is lost. Like the Detective said, what’s the point in fighting it? He’ll give into her desires eventually anyway. “If it’s what you truly _desire—”_

“It is!” she interrupts, her face lighting up as she nods overenthusiastically.

“— then I will indulge you.”

Ella all but bounces up and down in her seat, a wild grin on her face that almost makes him regret saying yes. “This is going to be _so fun!”_

She proceeds to babble in a fit of excited energy about all the intricate details of their plans, with seemingly no intention to stop to breathe in the foreseeable future.

_Yes,_ he may already be regretting this.

~

“ _Bloody hell_ ,” Lucifer’s voice comes from beyond the archway to his bedroom, “does all _cosplay_ involve a gimp suit? If so, I do believe I’ve been missing out all these years after all.”

Chloe eagerly awaits his emergence from the bathroom, where he’s been for a good half hour now. Once she’d heard that Ella had talked Lucifer into going in costume, she’d managed to (really it wasn’t that difficult considering Ella _never_ stops talking about it) find out exactly when their first ‘fitting’ would be. There was no way she was going to miss this.

“It’s not a _gimp suit!”_ Ella calls back from her place on the couch.

Booted footsteps echo over the Italian marble flooring as Lucifer finally exits the bathroom. “It’s certainly tight enough!”

He emerges in the archway in a dark green leather two-piece suit, accented with lighter green stripes across his thighs and arms. The top half of the costume has sleeves that extend over the back of his hands, and what looks to be armour of a harder material covers his shoulders and continues in patches down his arms.

A shiny gold bit of metal shaped like an arrow sits in the areas between the stuck-up collar, the same material as the helmet that he has tucked under one arm. A cape of the same dark green flows elegantly behind him as he moves.

The costume is perfect except for one thing; he still hasn’t taken his black onyx ring off. She briefly wonders about it, about what it means to him that makes him never want to be without it. But that train of thought is derailed when her gaze drifts south. She can’t help it. He was _not_ wrong when he’d said it was tight. Her mouth suddenly goes dry as impure thoughts take over rational ones.

Lucifer shifts, awkwardly pulling at his pants.

Ella jumps to her feet, a beaming smile in full effect as she takes in the sight of him. “You have to wear the helmet too!”

He stops fidgeting, momentarily directing a glare at her that’s somewhere between _‘haven’t I done enough’_ and _‘she’s going to be the death of me’._ Huffing, he mutters, “Very well,” under his breath, as he takes the golden helmet and slips it onto his head. It seems to fit him perfectly. And, well… she’d dreamed of him having horns before but this… _this_ is something else entirely.

They can only be described as horns, but this is far from her dream. These are… _beautiful,_ shining metal horns that curve from the top of the helmet and, despite their oversized appearance, he actually looks _good_.

“Whaddya think, Chlo?” Ella asks her, shattering what was bound to become a steamy daydream.

She snaps her mouth closed, only just realising that she’d had it open. Lucifer quirks an eyebrow at her, his face creasing at her reaction. “It’s… _uh_ ,” she shakes her head, gesturing vaguely to him, “it looks _good,”_ she finally manages, before shutting her damn mouth. Though she’s sure the way her cheeks redden give away her train of thought anyway.

Lucifer smirks, holding his hands out to his sides. “See something you like, Detective?” he purrs in that velvety voice of his. And as if she isn’t already mortified enough, he then has to add, “I didn’t know you were into roleplay.” He waggles his eyebrows and presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek. “If that’s what it takes to get you into bed you should have just said so! Arrangements can be made!” He claps his hands together, a grin spreading across his face, making him look like the cat that got the canary.

“No! I— _Uh—_ ” she stammers, trying her best to form actual words, but failing spectacularly. “I— _Um….”_

“See?” Lucifer continues to grin and gestures to her with one hand, palm up. “Rendered speechless by the mere sight of me.” Then, waggling his stupid eyebrows again, he adds, “Imagine what else I could achieve if you allowed me the honour.”

Ella sniggers somewhere behind her, but she ignores it. “No!” she says firmly, and for what must be the _thousandth_ time since she’d started working with him, she says, “Lucifer, I _am not_ going to have _sex_ with you.”

And it’s not like she hasn’t thought about it, but they’re partners and friends. It’s inappropriate.

“ _Jeez_ ,” Ella mutters, rolling her eyes, “get a room already.”

Chloe glares at her. Lucifer just continues to grin manically. “Can’t say I haven’t tried, Miss Lopez.”

“Enough!” Chloe says firmly, desperately trying to put an end to this conversation once and for all. “Both of you.”

Ella nervously clears her throat and then makes a gesture like she’s zipping her lips shut.

“Right then,” Lucifer says, breaking the silence that falls over the trio, just as it threatens to become awkward, “how do I look? I’d say I look ridiculous, but I can pull anything off.” He smirks again, directing another sultry glance towards Chloe. “Even nothing.”

Ella grins wildly.

“And if you don’t believe me, ask the Detective, I’m sure she can attest to that.”

Heat once again rushes to her cheeks and she buries her face in her hands in a feeble attempt to hide it. Or maybe just hide from both of them.

“Well…” Ella says, still laughing just a little bit but clearly trying not to, “I think that you _Loki_ amazing!” She pauses, presumably waiting for them to acknowledge her awful pun. “Get it? _Loki,_ like _look_?”

Lucifer’s grin falters and Chloe can’t help but smile fondly at how awkward he looks.

“Anywaaaay,” Ella continues, obviously realising that her ‘ _joke’_ (and even that’s a bit generous) has fallen flat, “there’s just one more thing!”

He hops down the steps to join them in the living room as Ella ducks behind the couch and pops back up a moment later with a large silver case. Placing it down on the seat, she unclips the locks and then looks up to Lucifer, who stands with a curious little smile on his face.

“I kinda went all out on this,” she tells him with a grin.

Chloe leans over as Ella opens the case to reveal what looks like some kind of staff. The base starts round and wide, but it grows gradually thinner until the metal splits into two, becoming increasingly flatter until they both end in wicked looking points. The empty space in between the two pointy bits houses a round blue stone that looks almost ethereal, as it seems to project an eerie light from an indiscernible source.

Ella carefully lifts the staff as if it’s something precious, and holds it out on her two flat palms before Lucifer.

He studies it for one long moment, then, with a little smile, grasps it firmly in one hand and takes it from her. 

“ _Dude_ ,” Ella says in amazement, looking up at him with almost literal stars in her eyes, “you look totally _freaking awesome!”_

Chloe has to admit that she is right. Somehow, he pulls the odd ensemble off. But then again, what _can’t_ he pull off?

Lucifer’s smirk grows as he paces the length of the penthouse, expertly twirling the staff in his hands. “I’m starting to think that this whole costume idea isn’t half bad.” He stops to look at himself in the mirror, twisting so that he can see his backside. “I tell you, skin-tight leather does wonders for the ego.”

Chloe scoffs. As if his ego needs any inflation.

“Here!” Ella jumps to her feet, wielding her phone in one hand. “Lemme get some pictures.” Then she pauses, her grin widening. “Or better yet! Let me change into _my_ costume and Chloe can take pictures of both of us!”

Without waiting for anyone’s answer, she snatches her bag from the floor beside the piano and dashes into the bathroom.

Chloe just smiles to herself. She absolutely cannot wait to share these pictures to the group chat.

~

“Oh, and Chlo,” Dan says, stopping just before he leaves her apartment. He’s just dropped Trix off after having her at his place for the weekend. “Those pictures,” he smirks, already laughing to himself, “made my day. Just when we think Lucifer can’t get any weirder, right?”

She frowns at that, crossing her arms over her chest. Lucifer may be a bit… _eccentric_ at times, but weird seems a little bit mean. Especially when he’s doing something for Ella that he clearly isn’t all that comfortable with.

Maybe sharing the photos with her friends had been a mistake. She’s pretty certain Maze is intending to use them to blackmail Lucifer, and now this?

“I think it’s pretty sweet actually,” she replies, a hint of bitterness in her voice that she can’t keep out. It’s pretty obvious that Dan has never liked Lucifer; they’ve been butting heads since the very first moment they met. And well, she can understand why. At first Lucifer can come off as cocky and insensitive, but she knows better now. Dan should too. “He’s doing something really nice for Ella.”

Dan’s smirk falters and he shifts on the spot, clearly uncomfortable. “Right,” he says, drawing out the word as he begins to slowly move closer to the door. “I, uh, guess he is.” He clears his throat and awkwardly gestures towards the door. “I better get going anyway.”

When he finally opens the door, he’s stopped in his tracks by the sight of Lucifer on the other side of it.

“Ah, hello Daniel,” Lucifer says, surprisingly forgoing his usual nickname for the man. “Wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

Dan nods, looking slightly nervous as he jerkily points to beyond the door. “I was just leaving.”

Lucifer frowns as Dan unceremoniously squeezes past him without bothering to say goodbye. Stepping further into the apartment, he turns to her with a puzzled look on his face. “Something I said?” he asks, pointing after Dan.

“No,” she answers, smiling at him, not yet even thinking to question why he’s shown up unannounced at her apartment. “I think I made him uncomfortable.”

He still stands in the hall, hands folded behind his back as he shifts awkwardly on the spot. “Oh.”

“Anyway…” she says, rounding the kitchen counter to join him, maybe taking a moment to notice how perfect his hair is, or how, without a waistcoat on, she can see how his shirt hugs him even beneath his jacket. “Did you… uh, need something?”

“Oh, I….” He clears his throat, clearly radiating anxious energy. For what reason though, she doesn’t know. “Well, I was just in the neighbourhood…”

That’s an uncharacteristically lame excuse. Like he would ever ‘ _just be in the neighbourhood’_.

“… and I wanted to pop by just to say thank you,” he finishes, pulling an expensive looking bottle of wine from behind his back.

For one long moment, her brain seems to short circuit. Her mouth opens, but no words come out. All she can seem to do is stare at him.

Lucifer’s face creases, concern set deep in those sparkling eyes of his. “ _Detective?”_ he asks softly, as though he’s afraid she’s broken or something.

“Yeah!” She shakes herself, nodding a little too enthusiastically before stopping abruptly. Pressing her lips together, she runs her tongue over her teeth as she tries to think what he could possibly be thanking her for. “ _Thank me?_ ” she finally asks, when she comes up empty.

He steps towards her, a curious little smile creeping over his lips as he tilts his head to one side. He does that sometimes. Frankly, it’s quite adorable. “Yes. Thank you. For putting up with all this Comic-Con nonsense, and well...” he trails off, swallowing hard as he waves his hand in a vague gesture. “Thank you for not laughing the other day.”

_Oh._ She blinks in surprise. Could it be that he’s nervous about this whole thing? _Lucifer Morningstar,_ genuinely nervous? It’s more likely that she’s stumbled into an alternate reality. “That’s okay,” she says, trying her best to sound reassuring. “I think it’s really nice that you and Ella get along so well, and it’s really sweet what you are doing for her.”

“It’s nothing,” he says, his voice smaller than usual.

She can’t help but smile fondly at him trying to downplay his act of kindness, as he always seems to do. “ _Right_ ,” she says, flashing a grin at him. “Anyway…” she drawls, returning to the kitchen to grab two glasses before heading for the couch, only stopping to briefly gesture for him to follow. “How are you feeling about the whole thing?”

Setting herself down on the couch, she places the glasses on the table in front of her. “I know it’s not exactly in your comfort zone.”

Lucifer pops the cork on the wine bottle and fills both glasses with practiced ease. Then, handing one to her, he picks up his own and sets himself down gracefully on the couch beside her. “Truthfully, I’m not quite sure what to expect.” He shrugs, lifting his glass to his lips to take a sip. “I’m sure I’ll manage though. Who knows,” he adds, smiling more now, “I might even have fun.”

“Well, it does _weirdly_ seem like something you might enjoy.” She recalls fondly the case they’d had a while back revolving around the stars of the movie _The Weaponizer_. Lucifer seemed to transform into a massive fanboy. Well… it occurs to her that maybe he hadn’t changed, maybe she just hadn’t paid enough attention to his interests. After all, he was fangirling (fanboy-ing?) over her from her Hot Tub High School days from the very beginning of their partnership.

And, now that she thinks about it, he does make _a lot_ of Star Wars references.

In retrospect, it seems pretty obvious that he is, in fact, at least a little bit of a nerd. And for some reason she can’t quite put her finger on, it’s actually pretty endearing.

“Anyway, now that you’re here,” she says, pausing to switch the tv on and take a sip of her drink, “I was gonna watch a movie. Care to join me?”

He chuckles. “As long as it isn’t another bloody _RomCom_.”

She finds herself laughing as well. She’d made him watch _10 Things I Hate About You_ a couple of months ago. He may have moaned and groaned all the way through, but she’s pretty sure he actually enjoyed it. “Okay, how about you pick? Anything you want.”

His grin grows wider. “Really?”

Realising her mistake, she holds up her index finger and quickly amends herself. “Anything _except_ Hot Tub High School.”

“Bugger,” he says, chuckling. “Really thought I had you that time.”

He’s been trying to get her to watch it with him for some time now. She doesn’t really feel like reliving that phase of her life right now, thank you very much. “How about _The Weaponizer?”_ she suggests, desperate to change the subject as quickly as possible. “I’ve never actually seen it.”

“ _What?”_ he cries, the outrage in his voice completely disproportionate for the topic at hand. Anyone would think she’d just told him that she enjoys kicking puppies, not that she hadn’t seen a movie. But that’s Lucifer, _dramatic_ as always. “That won’t do at all.”

She giggles as he takes the remote from her hand and finds the movie on Netflix.

“Dearie me, Detective, I never knew you were so behind the times,” he teases her as the movie begins to play. “Not to worry, we can easily remedy the situation.”

She laughs again, her cheeks beginning to feel a little bit achy because of it, and pulls the afghan from the back of the couch to cover herself.

They watch the movie, and it isn’t actually as bad as she thought it would be. Lucifer’s commentary is both amusing and actually quite adorable. And if at some point she leans her head against his shoulder, cuddling up to him and leeching his warmth, well… nobody has to know.

He certainly doesn’t seem to mind. 

~

“ _Road trip!”_ Ella shouts, running towards him the moment she sets eyes on him that morning in the parking lot of Lux.

The two duffle bags swung over her shoulders slow her approach down somewhat, allowing Lucifer a moment to brace for impact. But eventually, she reaches him, engulfing him in a _hug_ as she always does.

By now he’s learned not to resist. To just _go with it._

Resistance is futile, as they say.

That seems to apply a lot these days, especially where Miss Lopez is concerned.

“A couple of hours is _hardly_ a road trip, Miss Lopez,” Lucifer says, watching as she pulls away from him and drops her bags to the concrete floor with a thud that echoes throughout the desolate structure.

She grins as she looks up at him. “Well it’s not Vegas” — she shrugs— “but it’s still fun.”

He chuckles, fondly recalling their spontaneous trip to Vegas after Candy had gone missing. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Plus,” she says, abandoning her bags at his feet to walk around the car and open the passenger side door, “you have a _sweet_ ride.”

A bubble of pride swells within him at that. Truthfully, he loves this car. It is one of many possessions that makes him love living on Earth. “That I do,” he replies, smirking as he takes a moment to admire the gleaming surface of his pride and joy.

“Are you all set?” she asks from the front, seemingly making herself comfortable.

He stares down at her duffle bags on the floor, quirking an eyebrow. Seems like a lot of stuff for two days, but who is he to judge?

“Almost,” he replies as he pops the boot open and picks the bags up.

Once he’s managed to squeeze her oversized bags in along with his own, he rounds the car and slides into the driver’s seat. Gripping the steering wheel firmly with both hands, he turns to look at her. “Ready?”

Her grin grows. “Let’s do this!”

It’s a little under fifteen minutes later that Ella grows restless. He’d been expecting as much, as she’d been much the same on their ride to Vegas.

“Let’s play a game,” she says.

He raises an eyebrow, glancing at her in disbelief. “I thought this was supposed to be a _fun_ road trip?”

She throws her hands out to her sides, staring at him with an open-mouthed smile. “Games _are_ fun.”

He scoffs, sceptical that whatever game she cooks up will be any fun at all. The only time he’s ever had fun playing any game is when said games take place in the bedroom. And well… _maybe_ monopoly with the Detective was a _bit_ fun, but that’s only because he won.

Ella looks thoughtful for a moment. “What about ‘ _Never Have I Ever’_?”

A laugh bubbles up inside him. “What are we, _a bunch of angsty teens_?” He shakes his head. “Besides, it doesn’t really work without alcohol and I didn’t bring enough to share. Pass.”

“Okay….” She pauses, her face scrunching up as she tries to think of another game. “Truth or Dare?”

It’s a better suggestion, but not one that’s suited to play in the car. “Right,” he says, tone dripping with sarcasm, “are you going to dare me to jump out of the moving vehicle? Or perhaps swerve into oncoming traffic? The possibilities aren’t exactly thrilling, Lopez.”

“Fair point…” she says slowly. There’s a long moment of contemplative silence in which he thinks she might have given up. Unfortunately, he’s wrong. Her face lights up like a Christmas tree as she proudly announces her next idea. “Would you rather!”

For the life of him he can’t find a way to wriggle out of this one. “Fine,” he concedes with a huff.

She looks contemplative for a minute, her finger and thumb going to her chin as she looks up towards the sky. “Would you rather…” she says the words slowly, thoughtful even, and then, turning back to him with a huge grin plastered on her little face, offers him, “have the power to turn invisible at will, or be able to fly?”

He frowns. “What if I can already do one of those things?” he asks, glancing at her out of the side of his vision.

She raises an eyebrow, and for a moment looks deeply confused. Then it looks like she’s realised something, her features relaxing slightly, but still looking a little puzzled. “The Devil can turn _invisible?”_

He scoffs, not quite able to believe the words that have just come out of her mouth. “I most certainly _cannot_ ,” he huffs.

Her mouth forms a little ‘o’, and she nods slowly. “ _Right_ ,” she says, raising a finger to him. A smile creeps across her face, that one that says she gets exactly what he’s saying. “The Devil was an angel first,” she says, almost to herself, and then to him, “Jeez you really never break character, do you?”

“For the last time, I am _not_ a _method actor_.”

She winks at him, to which he can only sigh in exasperation. He must’ve told her on more than a dozen occasions now, but her only response seems to be ‘ _how method of you to say’._ Probably best not to dwell on it.

The only other alternative is… _well,_ unpleasant for all involved. He knows that well enough by now. 

“Besides,” he continues, doing his best to change the subject, “why would anyone _want_ to be invisible?”

Ella shrugs, her bottom lip jutting out just slightly. “You could use it to commit the perfect crime? Rob a bank… or get anything you want.”

“I already have everything I want, what sense is there in hiding it?” He waves a dismissive hand vaguely towards her, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. “This question is ridiculous. _Next.”_

“Alright, alright! Fine!” At some point she must have produced a packet of nacho cheese Doritos from Dad knows where, because now she’s tearing into them. A few moments pass where she munches thoughtfully on the tasty treats and then offers the packet to him. Taking a handful, he stuffs them all into his mouth in one go before quickly wiping the Dorito dust from his lips with his palm. “Would you rather be Batman or Superman?”

Definitely a better question. At least this one makes sense. And there’s no need to think about it, the answer is obvious. “Superman,” he answers easily. “He’s clearly superior.”

Ella hums. “I agree, I mean… having your whole planet destroyed is kind of a downer, but at least you don’t have to actually _see_ your parents get murdered.”

“Hang on,” he says, interrupting her with a raised palm, “can I change my answer?”

She laughs heartily, very almost spilling the Doritos. Continuing to crunch away, she says, “Alright, I’ve got another. Would you rather lose your sight or your hearing?”

Well _that_ seems like an unfair question. “Do I _have_ to pick one?” he asks.

“Yep,” she answers, popping the ‘p’, “dems da rules.”

Bugger. Without hearing there is no music. Of course, he’d gone for eons in Hell without hearing anything other than whatever was being used for torture at the time. But knowing he’d _never_ hear again? Plucking beautiful tunes from his piano but never being able to hear them… that’s a torture in itself.

Then again sight is everything. Driving his ‘Vette, reading his books, seeing Chloe….

Losing either of those senses would prevent him from working with the Detective.

“I don’t like this game,” he says, his throat suddenly feeling tight. “Can we do something else?”

“Sure,” Ella replies, looking puzzled, but not questioning him about it. “Twenty questions?”

He nods.

About an hour later, after what had seemed like a never-ending round of twenty questions, the ‘fun and games’ finally grind to a halt.

“Did you bring any more snacks?” she asks, shifting in her seat as she cautiously eyes the empty compartments in the car.

He scoffs. Did he bring snacks? What _does_ she take him for? “Glove box.”

She immediately goes for the compartment and opens it before rummaging inside. “Cool ranch puffs,” she says, taking the packet out and putting it down on her lap. “Peanut butter cups aaaand…” she trails off as she rummages deeper, her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth as she searches through the contents, before she pulls out another packet and holds it up triumphantly. Her face creases as she sees exactly what she’s picked up. “ _Condoms?”_ she says in disgust. “ _Dude,_ no offence but I am not—”

“They’re not for _you_ ,” he says quickly, snatching them out of her hand whilst keeping one hand on the steering wheel.

He says nothing further but can feel her gaze burning into him as he focuses on the road. The unnatural silence stretches for a few moments longer and then, deciding that this is indeed going to be an awkward weekend if he doesn’t, he says, “They’re just in case, alright?”

Ella frowns. “Just in case you want to have _sex_ in your car?” she says slowly, sounding rather puzzled.

He half shrugs, his eyes still fixed on the road ahead. “You never know….”

“Ew, gross!” she shifts in her seat, her eyes suddenly intently inspecting the interior.

“I have it _cleaned_ regularly!” Honestly, he’s slightly offended by the fact that she would think otherwise. Not that it matters anyway. Recently he’s been going through a bit of a dry spell. Not because he hasn’t had the choice, plenty of humans would give anything to have him fulfil their carnal desires, but he just hasn’t felt all that into it lately.

But Ella’s refusal sparks curiosity in him. They are friends and the idea of engaging in any sort of amorous activities with her is frankly quite unappealing, for some reason that he can’t quite discern. But she’s still human, only unlike the rest of them (sans the Detective and her freaky jedi/miracle powers) she doesn’t seem drawn to him. At least not in the same way as the rest.

“You’ve never wanted to have sex with me?” he asks suddenly, brow creasing. And maybe it’s a tad inappropriate, but his curiosity gets the better of him (as it often does). 

“Dude?! Are you being serious right now?”

Okay. Maybe it _is_ inappropriate.

His frown deepens. “I don’t mean I want to,” he quickly glances at her, taking his eyes off the road for a second, “but most humans want _me_. Well… all of them do, all the normal ones at least.” His grip on the steering wheel tightens as he feels his throat constrict. For some reason the idea of upsetting her makes him feel uneasy. “But not you. I just… I wonder why that is, that’s all.”

He risks another glance at her, the road ahead of him is thankfully clear. She hums, now frowning herself as she leans back in her seat. The glove box still hangs open, the cool ranch puffs and peanut butter cups lay seemingly forgotten in her lap. “Well… I mean now we’re friends that would just feel _waaaay_ wrong.”

“But even in the beginning,” he says, recalling the time in the dojo when he’d mistakenly thought she was asking him to have sex with her, “you didn’t go through with it.” His charm had seemed to work, but somehow, she still hadn’t taken him up on the offer.

Shrugging, her gaze falls distant as she stares out at the passing city. “I guess I’m just not that into sex.”

“Oh.” He falters, clearing his throat. “I didn’t realise, my apologies if I’ve made you feel uncomfortable, Miss Lopez. That wasn’t my intention.”

“No, that’s okay. I get it.” She turns to look at him again. The wind whips a stray piece of hair across her face, and she reaches up to tuck it behind her ear. “It can be confusing. It was for me for… a long time. For ages I felt like something was wrong with me, so I tried to fit in.” She pauses a moment, looking deep in thought. “I suppose it’s only since I moved to L.A. that I’ve really started to accept myself for who I really am.”

Lucifer listens intently. It’s something he can relate to. Not the sex, of course. He _loves_ sex. The accepting yourself part. Well… he’s trying.

“Somewhere along the line I realised that sex doesn’t make us whole, you know? So how could I be broken?” She offers him a soft smile.

Something warm blossoms inside of him. She confided in him and he hadn’t even used his mojo on her. She _trusts_ him. It’s an odd sensation, one that he finds he quite likes.

He smiles back. “I’m glad to hear it. And it’s perfectly normal, love. You do you.” His grin fades a little when he hears how that sounds. Clearing his throat, he adds with an awkward wave of his hand, “Not _literally_ , of course— I mean, not unless you want to. I just—”

Her hand suddenly comes to rest on his forearm. His eyes flicker down to it and then up to meet her eyes. “Lucifer?”

“Yes?” he replies, voice straining only slightly.

“Thank you.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but can’t seem to find the words. His throat feels tight and his tongue uncooperative. So instead he just purses his lips into a wan smile and nods.

She retracts her hand, a content smile settling in her features as she leans back in her seat.

“Music?” she asks after a beat.

“That would be perfect.”

And they ride the rest of the way in relative silence, just enjoying the sound of some classic rock and each other’s company.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ella and Lucifer arrive at Comic-Con.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! This is the last chapter of this fic and I just want to say another big thank you to my betas, NotOneLine and Shazzam, for all their hard work and advice, to NightsLux for inspiring me to write this, and to all you lovely people for your kudos and kind comments! They really are appreciated! Hope you all enjoy <3

“Okay, so… what _exactly_ are we supposed to do?” Lucifer asks as they enter the entrance hall clad in full cosplay. He scans the bustling masses with one raised eyebrow.

It’s a colourful sea of Captain Marvels, Deadpools and everything in between. He’s already seen multiple variations of spider… _people,_ half a dozen Harley Quinns, and one surprisingly well made and partially functioning Iron Man suit. It’s like Halloween, only with less children. Well… he did see one baby Groot, which he suspected to be a toddler weaving between people’s legs, but still, it is surprisingly fairly child free.

“We have _fun!”_ Ella exclaims, starry eyed as she takes in the scene around her, with quite possibly the biggest smile he’s ever seen on her small face. She’s wearing her own costume, in a material similar to his, but white and gold with a flowing royal blue cape. Her hair is down, cascading in soft ripples over her shoulder and shining in the electric lights. In her hand she holds a short sword with a gleaming golden hilt and a curved, slightly blue-ish blade. “I have the whole day planned!” She vibrates on the spot with excitable energy, clapping her hands together multiple times in quick succession. “It’s gonna be _AWESOME!”_

He flinches a little at her sudden outburst. It’s really something he should expect from her by now, but, just like the excessive hugging, some things take time to acclimate to.

And this is… well, truthfully, it’s all a bit much to take in, but he’s going to try. Ella is so excited; he can’t possibly bring himself to let her down, no matter how much he’s itching for a fag. He _can_ do the next best thing to calm his nerves though.

“Well,” he says, idly swinging his Loki staff in his hand as they stand there, “first thing’s first.”

She turns to him, a puzzled expression washing over her features.

“Where can I get a bloody drink around here?” As flattering as this costume is, he could only just fit his phone in his pocket, and even that was… a _squeeze_. Unfortunately, his flask had been a necessary casualty.

Quickly consulting what looks to be a floor plan of the building, she points to the far corner of the hall, past the crowds of people. “There should be a stand over there somewhere, we can get drinks and then look around the merch. We have about an hour before anything good starts anyway.”

“Brilliant,” he says as he strides forward, disappearing into the crowd with confidence, deciding to grab the bull by the horns and just go with it.

It can’t be that bad, can it?

They manage to squeeze through the crowd and locate the drinks stand with relative ease. Lucifer stands staring at the sorry excuse for a drink menu with a displeased grimace on his face.

“Is this _all_ there is?” he asks Ella, as she buys herself a bottle of water. “The choice is _bloody abysmal_ ,” he groans.

Ella turns to him, tucking her phone away, and just shrugs. “Yeah… the choice of food and stuff isn’t great, but hey, what did you expect? Most nerds live on Mountain Dew and Doritos, so they ain’t exactly picky.”

He huffs, scanning over the list again. The choice of alcoholic beverages is limited to beer or cider. Neither thrills him, but when in Rome….

So, beer it is. He grimaces as the cashier hands him a flimsy plastic cup that’s filled to the brim. Beer sloshes over the edge, splashing his hand.

Following Ella away from the stand, he takes a sip of the too pale, bubbling liquid. It tastes _cheap_ _—_ most likely watered down— and leaves a not so pleasant aftertaste, but he continues to drink it anyway. No sense in wasting alcohol. And while it’s unlikely that he’ll actually be able to get drunk on the no doubt meagre amount of alcohol that this sorry excuse for a beer _actually_ contains, even a small buzz will likely make the day more enjoyable.

They wander towards rows of merchandise stands that contain all manner of weird and wonderful memorabilia. People flock around them, chattering excitedly as they pick up plush toys, action figures and all sorts. One store looks like it sells solely bobble heads. Daniel would be pleased.

But Lucifer doesn’t really understand what all the fuss is about. None of this stuff would fit in with his décor in the penthouse. Except… light reflects off a sleek metal surface, catching his eye. A display of longswords, maces and other such weaponry stands between a stall selling video games and one that sells… _My Little Pony?_ That’s… _different._

Never mind that, he thinks, feeling drawn towards the magnificent collection of gloriously forged armaments. They appear to be replicas— some he recognises from _Lord of the Rings_ and _Game of Thrones_ _—_ but others are unfamiliar. A bloody baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire looks especially brutal. Maze would approve.

One weapon in particular catches his eye. A sleek longsword with a beautiful triple bevelled fuller, a shining downward spiked hilt, and a white wolf pommel. He knows the blade’s name; he’s coveted it since he’d first laid eyes on it, the very first time he’d watched _Game of Thrones._

_Longclaw._

It’s been an age since he fought with a sword… nothing quite compares to the feeling of satisfaction one gets from brandishing such fine craftsmanship, and felling your opponent. The sound of steel on steel, locked in the ultimate battle of skill—

“Luce!” A hand grabs his shoulder from behind, startling him. “Don’t wander off like that!” Ella comes up beside him, giving him a pointed look. “You’re lucky you’re freakishly tall and wearing _huge_ golden horns,” she says with a shrug, tilting her head to one side slightly, “or I coulda lost you.”

She follows his gaze to the blade. “ _Nice!”_ Nudging his arm, she nods in approval. “Didn’t know you were into _Game of Thrones.”_

He turns to her, raising one eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I be? It has everything; sex, violence, alcohol,” he says, counting them off on his fingers.

“That is true…” she replies.

“And I always was fond of the Middle Ages. Not the diseases, mind you, or the smell…” he trails off, scrunching his face up as he recalls the pungent smell of rotting flesh that filled filthy mud streets. “But those feasts… they were marvellous. I tell you, Dante and I had some belting parties back in the day.”

“ _OH MY GOD!”_ Ella suddenly shouts, snapping Lucifer from his reminiscing and attracting attention from some of the passing crowd. “Lucifer!” She grabs his arm, eyes wild as she waves her arms pointing at something in the distance. “Look!”

It takes him a moment to figure out what she’s so excited about, but his gaze finally lands on it, and his face lights up with a mischievous grin.

“You _totally_ need to get a picture in that,” Ella says, already pulling him towards it in her excitement.

They both stop short in front of it, staring at the Iron Throne before them as it stands in all its glory.

Hundreds of swords moulded to form a seat that is truly fit for a king.

“Hold my beer,” Lucifer says, handing the now half full, flimsy plastic cup to Ella as he walks towards the throne with confidence in every step.

He stops for a moment, admiring the thing before he takes a seat. Sitting up straight, with one leg crossed over the other and resting his hands on the sides, he feels _powerful_. It isn’t exactly comfortable, what with the metal seat and his tight leather trousers, but still… it feels _right._

Ella pulls her phone out and snaps a few photos of him. People stop as they pass, pointing at him. Some even take pictures of their own. Maybe because of his costume, maybe because of how much he suits a throne. He suspects it’s a little bit of both.

Loki sat on the Iron Throne isn’t exactly something you see every day, after all.

“Come on,” Ella gestures to him to get up, “other people are waiting.” She points to a small queue that’s formed beside the Throne. It’s mainly Game of Thrones cosplayers. One in particular stands out.

She’s tall in an imposing kind of way, with long, flowing, almost white, blonde hair. A silver necklace intricately styled like a dragon sits around her neck. Her piercing blue eyes meet Lucifer’s as she turns to him with what he could only describe as a near permanent scowl on her flawless face. She looks first to the throne and then to Lucifer, who stands between her and her prize.

“Ñahor līr gūrenna,” she says, still staring daggers at him.

Lucifer can only shake his head in disappointment. “Your pronunciation is _bloody awful.”_ He holds his index finger up to her, as shock melts fake Dany’s scowl. “It’s ‘ _Ñu_ hor līr _gūrē_ nna’,” he corrects, stressing the syllables that she mispronounced. “I mean if you’re going to commit to a character, you might as well do it _properly_.” He tuts, shaking his head again and mumbling, “ _Dearie me,”_ under his breath.

Danaerys doesn’t say another word, merely slinking away back to her group of friends, looking slightly redder in the face than she had done before.

Beside him, Ella sniggers, covering her face with her hand. “ _Dude,”_ she finally manages, still laughing a little bit, “way to _slay_ the Mother of Dragons. What language even was that?” she asks, looking at him with the same disbelief in her eyes that she’d had when he’d told her he speaks Klingon.

“High Valyrian. She said, ‘I will take what is mine’, or at least she _tried_ to,” he answers easily, gaze wandering back to the throne along with his mind. “Do you think that’s for sale? I’d love a throne for the penthouse, and this one is _very me_. Don’t you think?”

Ella laughs. “Dude, you are too funny.”

~

“Loki!”

Lucifer frowns, scanning the crowd around him to try and locate the source of the shouting, but comes up empty. Shaking his head, he turns his attention back to whatever Miss Lopez is doing. It seems like she’s trying to locate the end of a _very_ long queue, but for what he can’t say.

They had perused the merchandise stands for about an hour, apparently not looking for anything in particular, though it seemed like Ella would take half the entirety of all the stall’s goods home, given the chance. After that she’d said there was something she wanted to see, someone talking? He hadn’t quite picked up on that part, but she seemed eager to get going.

_“Loki!”_

The high-pitched little squeal comes again. It seems to be getting closer, but as he looks around, he can’t see anyone paying any particular attention to him.

Oh well, it’s probably nothing.

“Miss Lopez,” he says, turning his focus back to whatever it is she’s trying to get them into, “What _exactly_ are we— _oof!”_

It’s then that something collides with his legs, catching him off guard. He looks down in shock, and is horrified to see a very tiny human spawn clinging to his legs.

_“Loki! Loki! Loki!”_ the urchin cries out joyfully, her little arms wrapped around him as she looks up at him with sparkling eyes.

He stands there, frozen to the spot, desperately trying to comprehend what is happening. The little girl wears a golden headband with two horns on the top and a little green dress. Her shoes squeak as she jumps excitedly on the spot.

Ella looks at him with what he can only describe as starry eyes as she beams at him. “ _Oh. My. God!”_ she exclaims. _“So freaking adorable!_ I have got to get a picture to show Chloe!”

He raises his index finger to her, letting the unwelcome reminder of his Father slide this time. There are more pressing issues at hand. The _child_ stuck to his legs like glue, seemingly unwilling to let him go, for example. “Absolutely not.” He grits his teeth, his gaze flitting between his overenthusiastic, hug-happy companion and the smaller, not dissimilar being that has attached itself to him. “How about you _help_ me instead?”

To his horror, she laughs heartily back.

“I’m being serious,” he reiterates. “I _require_ assistance to remove this… _human spawn_ from my person!”

She only laughs harder.

It’s up to him then. He shifts his legs in a weak attempt to remove the spawn without having to touch her, but his plan fails, and her grip only tightens.

_“Loki!”_ she cries at him again, a wide smile on her tiny, tiny face.

Truthfully, he’s never handled a spawn this small before, and he hasn’t the foggiest of how to deal with one. “Ah yes, excuse me, little… _uh… spawn_ ,” he starts, bending slightly as he tries to negotiate himself away from her, “if you would be so kind to release me.”

The little girl doesn’t respond, still staying stuck to him. Ella continues to giggle and grabs her phone, presumably taking photos.

Perhaps the girl might respond to a bribe like the Detective’s offspring does. Many a time has he had to give cash or promise of chocolate cake to avoid what would most likely be an undesirable fate for both him and his suits. She may be a sticky little urchin, but she is clever, he’ll give her that much.

Leaning down once again, he asks, “What is it going to take for you to let me go? _Cash_ perhaps?”

“ _Loki!”_ the girl only says in response.

Maybe he should have expected that. She only seems to be a small creature, a little less than half the size of the Detective’s spawn. Perhaps this one isn’t fully lingual yet….

_“Lily!”_ A woman approaches them. She has flowing brown hair and kind eyes, though her face is creased in concern as she goes for the child, presumably Lily. “Don’t run off like that!”

She picks the girl up, finally setting him free, and settles her on her hip, before looking back to Lucifer. “I am _so_ sorry,” she tells him. “Loki is her favourite and she tends to get a bit over excited.”

Lucifer clears his throat, straining a smile. “Not to worry. No harm done.”

“Hey,” Ella pipes up, smiling to the mother of the little Loki, “you should get a picture of them both! She would love that!”

“That would be _great_.” And then, turning to Lucifer again, the mother adds, “Would you mind?”

He tries to smile, silently cursing Miss Lopez as she smirks at him. “Not at all.”

It’s not too much later that they finally get to wherever Ella was trying to take them. It’s some kind of hall set up with a stage at the front and rows of plastic seats for an audience. People pile in from doors on either side and proceed in a surprisingly orderly fashion to fill the place up.

He looks to Ella as she scans the crowd, presumably looking for two seats closer to the front. The crowd around him seems much the same as outside, only the vast majority are in various different _Marvel_ costumes. “So,” he starts, still searching for clues as to what exactly they are doing, “what is this?”

She stands on her tiptoes, straining to see above other people’s heads and, without turning around, replies, “It’s a panel. For the _MCU._ You know, actors and writers come out and talk, people can get up and ask questions.”

“Oh, right.” He spots a few empty chairs fairly close to the stage and points. “There.”

_“Great!”_ Ella makes a beeline for them, navigating her way through the crowd relatively easily given her small stature.

Lucifer on the other hand, has more trouble. The crowd around him seems drawn to his presence, their hands straying over him. One woman even approaches him. He recognises her shiny golden headband emblazoned with a star as that of _Wonder Woman’s,_ though the rest of her costume is rather more revealing than the actual hero’s.

He tries to negotiate his way around her, but she just smirks and places her hand on his chest, effectively halting him. “ _My king,”_ she purrs, eyeing him like a lion might look at a steak.

_Bloody magnetism._ If only his allure came with an off switch.

“I’m, uh… _good,”_ he says a little nervously, as he tries to back away from the woman. “Thank you.”

Managing to back away, he’s about to turn around when he feels someone grab at him from behind. He spins on the spot to see another young man eyeing him hungrily. “I’ll bow for you any day,” he growls, with a sultry smile on his (actually quite handsome) face.

“Bloody hell,” Lucifer says, laughing uneasily as he escapes.

He _really_ needs an off switch.

Eventually he manages to free himself from the crowd and the clutches of many a costumed congoer with impure desires. Not that he disapproves of that kind of thing. Certainly not, just not here and now. Not when Ella is waiting for him.

“Hey!” Ella looks up at him in surprise when he gets to the seats he’d spotted. “Where did you go?” she asks, shuffling over to the free seat beside her. “Here, I saved you a seat.”

He slides into the narrow aisle, grimacing a little as he sets himself down on the uncomfortable hard plastic and his knees hit the back of the chair in front. They are almost on the end of the row, but the view of the stage is still good. One empty chair sits beside him.

“Excuse me,” a voice comes from his side. He turns to see a man dressed in a tight, red leather costume. His helmet covers the top half of his face, and features two little red horns at the top of his head along with two ‘D’s overlapping on his forehead. His eyes are covered, but it’s obvious that the material allows him to see out of it. “Is this seat taken?” he asks, pointing to the empty seat on the very end of the row.

_Oh, bloody Hell._

He’s about to open his mouth to tell the man he can’t sit there when Ella leans over him, smiling graciously as she tells him _of course_ he can sit there.

Lucifer crosses his arms over his chest, grumbling to himself as _Daredevil_ takes the seat beside him.

“Hey, great costume by the way!” Ella says, leaning over Lucifer once more to address the imposter.

“Thanks! You guys look awesome too!” Daredevil replies.

Lucifer grumbles again, sinking further into his seat as he tries to focus on something other than the mockery that is being shoved in his face.

Only Ella seems to notice his displeasure this time. “Luce?” she asks, her smile fading and her face creasing in concern. “What’s up, bud? Everything okay?”

“No,” he huffs, “everything is not okay. This,”— he points to their neighbouring Daredevil— “is _not okay._ ”

Daredevil’s mouth curves downwards a little. “Look, man, if you have a problem, I can find somewhere else to sit.” He makes to stand up, but Ella stops him before he can, silently gesturing for him to stay.

But Daredevil looks unsure, perching on the edge of his seat as Lucifer continues to silently seethe.

“Stay,” Ella tells him. “Really, it’s fine.” And then, turning to Lucifer, she says, “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

“What’s _wrong?”_ he repeats, incredulously. “Isn’t it obvious?” he asks, throwing one hand out to the side. Surely, she can see it. How his name has been taken, turning him into some ponce who prances around in a tight leather suit _killing people_.

It’s a disgrace. Another version of him for _humans_ to blame their problems on.

Ella just stares back at him, her expression blank. “Uh… not really,” she says hesitantly.

“ _This_ ,” he bites out, once again pointing to Daredevil who sits there looking a little bemused, “is a _bloody mockery_.”

“Oh!” Ella says suddenly, seemingly coming to some realisation. “You don’t like _Daredevil?”_

He scoffs, crossing his arms once more. “No, I most certainly do _not like Daredevil._ It’s a bloody disgrace. Whoever came up with it ought to be ashamed.”

“Hey man!” Daredevil chips in. “Daredevil is one of the best _Marvel_ heroes there is, and don’t you _dare_ bad-mouth Stan Lee! Who do you think you are?”

“Not some pillock prancing around in tight leather pants revenge killing people, that’s for sure,” Lucifer quips back. “It’s completely inaccurate. _I_ do not _kill_ people and do _not_ have _horns.”_

Daredevil doesn’t seem to have anything to say to that, merely frowning back, his confusion clearly evident.

Lucifer, though, is intent on pointing out every single thing that is wrong with the so-called ‘ _Devil of Hell’s Kitchen’._ “And that’s another thing,” he says, continuing his rant, “ _Hell_ doesn’t even _have_ a kitchen. The amount of times I’ve tried to tell Ramsey that, I tell you….” He shakes his head, huffing.

“Lucifer?” Ella’s hand gently touches his elbow, bringing his outburst to a sudden unexpected halt. Her eyes are wide as she looks at him, concern brewing in those dark depths. “Just take a breath, okay? I know you don’t like the whole ‘Devil’ thing, but it’s just a character.” She pauses a second, pursing her lips for a moment before adding, “I know you’re not a bad guy.”

His throat suddenly feels tight at the reassuring words. For some reason what Ella thinks about him seems to matter more than the rest of humanities misconceptions. And that… that makes him feel good. “Thank you,” he says, voice slightly strained.

Ella smiles softly at him and he can’t help but smile back.

Daredevil suddenly stands up. “You guys are _nuts_ ,” he says, before storming away.

They both laugh at that.

Surprisingly, the rest of their weekend runs fairly smoothly, with minimal incidents to report. Well… apart from a few problems involving Lucifer and his ability to attract humans and draw out their most carnal thoughts…. He would hate to admit it, but he’s actually had _fun._

He would never have thought it, _hell_ , he hadn’t exactly kept his doubts to himself. But somehow, spending time with Ella has left him with this… _feeling_ , something he can’t quite identify blossoming in his chest. Doctor Linda will surely be able to explain it for him, but whatever it is, it makes him feel warm inside.

It seems like Ella _understands_ him better than most somehow. And even when she doesn’t understand, she doesn’t judge. When he’s with her, much like when he’s with the Detective, he feels at ease. Like being himself is _enough._

They stand in the main hall, where all the merchandise stalls are still set up, ready for people to make purchases on their way out. People mill around still, but not half as many as have been there all weekend.

Their costumes have been packed away, and their bags are already stowed away in the boot of his car. He has to admit, as flattering as those tight leather pants are, nothing feels better than a well fitted, fine Italian suit.

Ella paces a few feet away from him as he waits for her to come along. She keeps trying to call someone, but doesn’t seem to be having much luck.

Sticking his hands in his pockets, his gaze drifts back to the stand that sells replica weaponry that he had briefly looked at before. Glancing back to Ella, he sees that she is still busy, and decides to wander over. Longclaw _would_ look good on the wall of his study.

A short conversation with the burly man behind the stall later, and Lucifer is holding _Longclaw._ He hasn’t bought it yet, but the bloke had been amicable to let him get the feel of the weapon beforehand.

It’s heavier than he’d expected for a replica. Forged from good quality steel that surpasses his expectations as he holds it up to scrutinise what seems to be a flawless blade.

“Hey,” Ella says as she comes up beside him, “ready to go?”

Lucifer spins on the spot, falling into his familiar battle stance that is ingrained into him even after all these eons, pointing the dulled blade towards her. “ _En garde,”_ he says, smiling widely.

She smiles back rather weakly, like something is wrong, but he’s not sure what. “You look like you really know how to handle that thing. You fence?”

“Not exactly,” he replies, dropping the sword’s point back to the floor. “Though my siblings and I were well versed in the art of swordsmanship from a young age.”

Her eyes widen a little. “ _Really?”_

He hums an affirmative, nodding as he remembers sparring with his brothers and sisters in the Silver City. It’s probably one of his few fond memories of the place….

“Damn, and I bet you guys lived in like a huge manor house with servants and everything, like something out of Downton Abbey, but you know… modern.” She rambles on, but Lucifer doesn’t pay too much attention, instead losing himself in his memories.

“ _Luce?”_ She snaps her fingers in front of his face, breaking him from his reminiscing. “You okay there?”

He nods, jerkily, shaking the thoughts. “Hm? Yes. Fine.”

She looks concerned, but doesn’t pry, and instead asks, “So are you gonna buy that? Will it even fit in your car?”

“I’m sure we’ll manage,” he says with a smile, albeit a slightly forced one as he hands the shopkeeper a wad of cash.

~

The ride home is quieter than the ride there. Lucifer glances at his passenger from time to time, noticing that she seems… _down._ When he asks her about it, she tells him it’s just something called ‘ _con blues’_ , but he’s not buying it. If there’s one thing Ella Lopez is not, it’s _quiet._

It’s when they’re about an hour from the city that he decides to stop for a few, to stretch his legs and to have a cig (he’s itching for one and there’s no way he’s going to risk his interior for it). He pulls over to the side of an unlit and fairly quiet road. Ella looks over at him with a question on her face.

“Just stopping for a fag,” he says as he gets out of the car, “won’t be a minute.”

She nods and makes to follow him.

“Hey,” Ella says, uncharacteristically quietly as she climbs from the car, “I just wanted to say thank you, for this weekend I mean.”

They stand a few feet apart, and she seems determined to keep it that way. It’s odd. He expects to be accosted with an uncomfortably long hug as is her usual practice, but she doesn’t. She just stands there with her hands held behind her back, her glistening dark brown eyes shining as she stares up at him.

“That’s quite alright,” he replies, frowning slightly. It feels like something is wrong, but he can’t figure out what. The entire weekend had gone smoothly, in fact he would even venture to say that they’d _had fun._

And yet Ella seems… _sad._

The sun has just set, and the glow of the city can be seen in the distance, leaking into the inky blackness of the night sky, softly illuminating the deep blue oblivion above them.

Leaning back to rest on the side of his car, he looks up into it. A few stars can still be seen out here, their light dim and flickering amidst the light pollution from the city, but beautiful, nonetheless.

He reaches into his pocket, retrieving his silver cigarette case and flipping it open. Ella leans on the car beside him, closer now, almost mirroring him, neck straining as she gazes up into the dark expanse above them. Without a word, he plucks one cigarette free and jams it between his lips, before holding the case out to her, silently offering her one.

“No thanks,” she says, waving her hand a little, “smoking is one of the few vices I _don’t_ have.”

He shrugs, tucking the case away back in his jacket pocket and murmurs, “Suit yourself,” his cigarette still stuck between his lips. Rummaging in his pocket, he quickly locates his lighter and brings it up to meet the cigarette, shielding it with his hand as he flicks it, setting his smoke alight.

He takes one long inhale, savouring the smoke as it caresses his lips before it begins to escape, wispy tendrils curling around his nostrils as he slowly exhales. “What’s wrong?” he asks after another silent moment passes.

Ella shuffles beside him, her gaze shifting from the sky to look at him. “Why do you think something is wrong?”

“You’re _quiet_.”

“Why does that mean that something’s wrong?” she retorts, raising an eyebrow at him.

He takes another puff of his cigarette, relishing the silence, the _peace,_ of the desert that surrounds them. “You’re _never_ quiet.”

She isn’t. She’s always got something to say about something. Usually when she’s saying something, she’s really saying nothing. Now it would seem that the opposite is true as well.

For a long moment she doesn’t reply, the silence lingering between them as he continues to enjoy his smoke.

“I was just thinking,” she finally starts, “I love my brothers…”

He turns to her, slightly shocked at the odd remark, quirking an eyebrow.

“… but I could never rely on them for anything, you know? They were— _are_ always getting into trouble, and they never think about how that’s going to affect _me.”_ She straightens from the side of the car and turns to him. Her lips part and her face creases with distress.

Something inside of him squeezes painfully at that.

“They never think about me,” she says, much more quietly this time.

He feels his throat constrict at her words.

“Ever since I moved out here, not one of them has bothered to call me, to check in and see how I’m doing.” She pauses a moment, clenching her fists by her side as she shuffles her feet in the dirt at the side of the road. “I call them, and they don’t call back and I just… I’ve been trying to call them all weekend and I don’t get so much as a text back…” she trails off, a distinct wobble in her voice that causes a feeling of unrest to settle deep within his bones. She pulls her phone out of her pocket, quickly fiddles with the screen to open the ‘recent calls’ section. There are numerous outgoing calls to all four of her brothers timestamped for this weekend, all of them are failed. Words tumble from her lips in a tremulous fit of emotion. “I just feel like they don’t care…. Why don’t they care?” 

A tear spills down her cheek.

It’s as if the air has been sucked from his lungs. He would do anything to settle her, to offer her some semblance of comfort, but he finds himself frozen to the spot, his cigarette hanging limply from his lips as it burns, gently smoking away.

“If it’s any consolation,” he manages to get out, his voice straining just slightly, “my siblings don’t care for me much either.”

“But don’t you see?” She throws her arms out to the sides. “That’s not how it’s supposed to be! They’re supposed to care, it’s their _job_ to care and yet _you_ care more than _any_ of my family do.” She pauses, eyes wide as she looks at him with conflict brewing in those dark depths. “Why _do_ you care, Lucifer?”

All his words seem to get stuck in his throat as he looks back at her, unable to say anything. “I…” he tries, plucking his cigarette from his now parted lips. “I just _do.”_

He takes a steadying breath, trying his best to compose his thoughts. “Look, Mis—” he cuts himself off before trying again, “ _Ella_. I’ve learnt a lot since I moved to L.A., even more so since I met the Detective and,”— he throws out his palm in a vague gesture— “of course, the Good Doctor.”

Linda has helped him grow so much, helped him navigate the strange maze of human emotions that he would be otherwise lost in.

“One of the things she’s taught me is that _home_ isn’t where you live. It’s more than that.” He takes another puff and gazes upwards, watching as the smoke drifts lazily into the sky, dispersing before disappearing completely. “It’s about the people around you. The people that care about you. Those people— the ones who make up your home, who make you feel like you _belong—_ those are your true family.”

He pauses, letting the statement linger as he finishes off his cig. Beside him, Ella folds her arms across her chest, almost hugging herself.

“So,”— he straightens and flicks his butt on the floor, before crushing it under his foot— “when you ask me why I care, the answer is simple.”

For a brief moment their eyes meet in the darkness. Tension brews between them as he stands there, his next words sitting heavily in his mouth.

“You make me feel like I belong,” he finally says. 

Ella blinks. Her arms fall limply to her sides as she pulls herself from leaning against the car. For once, she has nothing to say; she simply walks towards him, spreads her arms and embraces him.

He doesn’t resist. Not because it’s futile, but because he _does_ care. If he’s gotten one thing out of all of this, it’s that it doesn’t hurt to show that once in a while.

He brings his hands up to encompass her small body, holding her a little tighter against him. The action draws a sniffle from her, and the briefest flash of worry for his suit crosses his mind before he dismisses it.

They stand there for a few minutes. She hides her face, but he knows she’s crying.

_“Thank you,”_ she says quietly, voice muffled by the fabric of his jacket.

He feels his own breathing grow uneasy at the words, and he takes a deep, measured breath, continuing to hold her, his hands rubbing idle, comforting circles onto her back.

When she finally pulls away, she’s stopped crying, but her eyes are glassy and red-rimmed. She wipes her cheeks with the sleeve of her hoodie before crossing her arms once more. As she looks at him a small smile starts to form on her lips, and something about that makes his heart soar.

“Seriously,” she says, eyes glistening as she shuffles a little on the spot, “ _thank you, Lucifer.”_ Her voice is a bit rough. Probably from the crying. “It means so much to me that you think that.” The soft smile on her face is already starting to grow. “And I know you’re not a super _feely_ sort of guy on the outside, so I appreciate you telling me that. I really do.”

A wan smile crosses his own lips as he huffs a little, weak laugh to cover his crumbling composure. “The Devil does care, you know.” He half shrugs. “Well, at least sometimes.”

She laughs a little herself at that, though it’s also lacking in spirit. “I know you do.”

He rounds the car, making his way back to the driver’s seat, and she follows suit, sliding into the passenger seat. His hands settle on the steering wheel, but he can’t bring himself to start the ignition. A thought brews in his mind, an idea formulating. “I was thinking,” he says suddenly, drawing her attention, “would you like to come back to my place? Maybe we could—”

_“Dude?!”_ she exclaims, cutting him off. Clearly, she’s got the wrong idea. “I already told you, I _do not_ want to ha—”

“ _Bloody hell!”_ he cries, “That’s not what I was going to say!”

Ella clears her throat, looking a bit sheepish. “Oh. Right. Sorry.” She smiles nervously and with a half shrug adds, “Old habits.”

He scoffs. “I was _thinking_ …” he starts again, “maybe we could watch _Lord of the Rings?”_

Her entire face lights up as she sits up stock straight in her seat, the excitement already seeping from her. “And _The Hobbit?”_

He nods. Why not?

“Extended editions?” she asks, eyes wide and, if he didn’t know any better, he’d say she might explode right then and there in an eruption of eager delight.

“Would there be any point, otherwise?” he asks, trying to remain dramatic but failing as a smile cracks his face.

She cheers, pumping her fist in the air. “Let’s go!”

The car roars beneath them as he pulls into the open road once more. Something inside him feels… settled.

He finally feels at _home._

_Prologue_

_One Week Later_

“So,” Chloe says as she sets herself down on the couch beside him, “Ella tells me you’re proficient in more than just _Klingon_.”

Lucifer hums, a sly little smile on his lips as he leans back, sinking into the couch cushions.

_The Weaponizer 2_ is queued up on Netflix, ready to play. A little encore to their previous movie night. To be honest, she wouldn’t mind if this became, or continued to be, a regular thing that they do. Watch movies together. Drink wine.

She enjoys his company more than she would ever admit aloud. It’s comforting. When she’s with him, she doesn’t feel like she has to be anything she’s not. With a lot of people, she feels like she has to pretend. Not with him though. Never with him.

“You know,” she continues, holding the remote in her hand, not yet pressing play, “Ella thinks a lot of you. She’s like… your number one fan.”

He half shrugs, his gaze not meeting hers, seemingly fixed on some undefined point on the wall. “Of course she does,” he says offhandedly, “who doesn’t. What’s not to like?”

Chloe sighs. Of course he denies it, just as he denies all of his feelings. It’s not his fault, it’s just who he is. She’s accepted that now. “I’m just really happy that you two have become such good friends.” She smiles softly as he turns to hesitantly meet her eyes. A glimmer of that vulnerability that she sees in him sometimes shines in those dark depths of his. “I’m proud of you.”

The words sound silly as they come out of her mouth. Telling a grown man that she’s proud of him for making a friend, but it’s true. He’s obviously tried so hard with Ella and it’s just… it’s really endearing.

And it’s really great for both of them.

“I…” he tries, before swallowing hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing along the smooth line of his throat. “ _Thank you_ ,” he finally manages, his voice thick with emotion.

For a moment, they sit there in silence. His dark eyes glisten, flickering as they reflect the dancing flames of the lit fire.

But it is fleeting, as their moments always are, broken when he averts his gaze, looking back to the tv. He clears his throat. “Are we going to watch this then?” he asks, gesturing to the screen.

She hums, still trying to shake the feelings that have overcome her. “Yeah, sure.” Gripping the remote in her hand, she points to the tv and then pauses, having another thought. “First… can you say something in one of your…” she gestures vaguely in the air, “ _languages_.”

He looks back at her, one eyebrow raised and a frown on his face. “ _Why?”_

“Ella told me you speak that one from _Game of Thrones_ ,” she explains a little too quickly, now feeling embarrassed about asking. Shrugging, she adds, “I heard you gave _Daenerys_ a grammar lesson. I’m just curious, that’s all.”

For a long moment he just stares at her, something calculating behind his features, like he’s trying to figure out whether she’s playing a trick on him, or something akin to that. Then he concedes, huffing a great sigh. “Fine. Only if we can get on with the bloody film afterwards,” he says, giving a pointed look to the remote that she holds hostage.

He looks up at the ceiling for a moment, clearly lost in his thoughts, and then looks back to her.

His expression is… strange. There’s a softness to it that wasn’t there a second ago. He looks a little bit… _afraid_ , only she can’t understand why. Maybe he’s just embarrassed about speaking a fictional language, but he certainly hasn’t seemed this way before with any of this other geeky stuff.

Maybe she shouldn’t have asked him. It was stupid.

She’s about to tell him it doesn’t matter, that he doesn’t have to if he doesn’t want, but then his lips part, releasing a jumble of syllables that just seem to roll from his tongue as smooth as silk.

“ _Avy jorrāelan.”*_

It makes no sense at all. He could have made it up for all she knows, but for some reason the words send a shiver down her spine. Whatever he said, _he meant it_. She knows that with absolute certainty because she knows _him._

Even in a different language she knows he’s said something meaningful, something _sweet._

“What does it mean?” she breathes, only just realising that she’d been holding her breath.

A smile tugs at the corners of his lips, but for some reason he looks _sad_. “Maybe one day I’ll tell you.”

She frowns, not understanding what he means, but doesn’t push him on it. Cryptic message aside, it was still beautiful. Smiling back at him, she once again lifts the remote, pointing it at the tv, and hits play.

They watch the movie, and the tradition lives on. Once a week they watch something or other, more often than not some action thriller or sci-fi thing that Lucifer picks, but every now and again she gets her chick flick in.

And she never asks him what those words mean, but she always remembers them.

FIN

* “Avy jorrāelan” = “I love you” in High Valyrian

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Follow me on Twitter if you fancy having a chat about Lucifer, Deckerstar or anything really, my inbox is always open to you all [@kaykat666](https://twitter.com/kaykat666) or on Tumblr @kaykat-loves-luci! You all stay safe out there! Sending lots of Ella hugs to all who need them! <3


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